B    4    02M    55^ 


I  HE  Feelings  aPM  AN 


N.A.Harvey 


^^ 


THE  FEELINGS  OF  MAN 


THE  FEELINGS  OF  MAN 

Their  Nature,  Function  and  Interpretation 


By 

NATHAN  A.  HARVEY 

State  Normal  College,  Ypsilanti,  Michigan 


BALTIMORE 

WARWICK  &  YORK,  Inc. 

1914 


Copyright,  1914 
By  WARWICK  &  YORK,  Inc. 


Bfsi 
H-3 


EDUC. 

PSYCH, 

LIBRARY 


fVf 


CONTENTS. 

Preface vii 

Chapter  I. 
Meaning  of  the  Terms 1 

Chapter  II. 
Theories  of  Feeling 13 

Chapter  III. 
The  Data 27 

Chapter  IV. 
The  Hypothesis 45 

Chapter  V. 
The  Expression  of  Feeling 61 

Chapter  VI. 
The  Properties  of  Feeling 81 

Chapter  VII. 
The  Classification  of  Feelings 105 

Chapter  VIII. 
The  Problem  of  Esthetics 125 

Chapter  IX. 
The  Relation  of  Feeling  to  Intellect 141 

Chapter  X. 
The  Relation  of  Feeling  to  Consciousness      .    .    .    157 

V 


321589 


VI  CONTENTS. 

Chapter  XI. 
The  Relation  of  Feeling  to  Memory 179 

Chapter  XII. 
The  Relation  of  Feeling  to  Attention 193 

Chapter  XIII. 
The  Relation  of  Feeling  to  Will 211 

Chapter  XIV. 
The  Relation  of  Feeling  to  the  Ego 227 

Chapter  XV. 
Mental  Ontogeny 243 

Chapter  XVI. 

Feeling  as  Motive 259 

Index 273 


PREFACE. 

The  New  Psychology  is  distinguished  from  the  Old 
especially  by  the  greater  emphasis  it  is  inclined  to  lay 
upon  physiological  processes.  The  past  twenty  or  thirty 
years  have  seen  greater  progress  in  the  development  of 
psychology  than  has  been  made  before  since  1691,  when 
Locke's  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding  was  pub- 
lished. This  progress  has  been  accomplished  largely  by 
the  study  of  physiological  changes  as  they  are  associated 
with  psychological  processes.  But  the  physiology  is  still 
physiology,  and  the  psychology  is  still  psychology,  and  no 
thorough  amalgamation  of  the  two  series  of  processes  has 
yet  been  successfully  accomplished. 

In  the  present  book  an  attempt  is  made  to  bring  about 
a  closer  union  of  the  two  series  of  phenomena  than  is 
ordinarily  undertaken.  The  doctrine  of  parallelism,  or 
correspondence,  is  invoked  to  furnish  a  tentative  justifi- 
cation for  an  interpretation  of  mental  processes  in  physi- 
ological terms. 

It  must  be  recognized  that  the  doctrine  of  parallelism 
asserts  no  finality,  but  represents  rather  an  armistice  be- 
tween two  hostile  philosophical  camps.  Psychology  can 
well  afford  to  assume  this  position  which  the  doctrine  of 
parallelism  represents,  for  it  professedly  deals  with 
phenomena,  and  not  with  ultimate  finalities. 

The  plan  of  the  book  demands  the  postulation  of  a 
physiological  hypothesis,  which  is  incapable  of  direct 
verification,  but  which  is  demanded  to  explain  the  rela- 
tion of  directly  observed  phenomena  to  each  other.  Such 
an  hypothesis  is  of  the  same  nature  for  psychology  as 


Vlll  PBEFACB 

the  atomic  theory  or  the  electron  theory  is  for  chemistry, 
and  has  the  same  value  for  psychology  that  the  repre- 
sentation of  forces  by  lines  has  for  physics.  In  no  other 
way  does  it  seem  possible  to  bring  the  full  effect  of  the 
studies  in  physiology  for  the  past  twenty-five  years  to  the 
interpretation  of  psychological  phenomena. 

Psychology  may  be  written  without  reference  to  physio- 
logical processes,  just  as  physics  and  chemistry  may  be 
studied  without  referring  to  atoms  or  electrons  or  the 
parallelogram  of  forces;  but  so  helpful  are  the  connota- 
tions of  these  physical  hypotheses  that  nearly  all  teach- 
ers use  them.  We  shall  find  equal  or  greater  value  aris- 
ing from  the  employment  of  a  physiological  hypothesis  in 
psychology. 

In  developing  a  hypothesis  of  this  nature,  it  will  read- 
ily be  recognized  that  much  modification  of  the  simple 
hypothesis  may  be  necessary  in  order  to  make  it  accurate 
throughout,  and  applicable  to  every  case,  or  capable  of 
explaining  all  observed  phenomena.  As  complex  as  our 
hypothesis  may  seem,  it  is  probable  that  the  physiological 
changes  that  occur  are  many  times  as  complex  as  the 
statement  of  the  simple  hypothesis  will  indicate. 

As  there  is  no  method  of  demonstrating  the  hypothesis 
by  direct  observation  of  the  physiological  changes,  its 
truth  or  falsity  must  be  judged  by  its  ability  to  explain 
all  the  observed  phenomena.  In  so  far  as  we  are  able  to 
explain  by  the  hypothesis  all  observable  phenomena,  we 
may  accept  it  as  true.  Certainly  such  an  hypothesis  is 
within  the  bounds  of  possibility,  and  we  are  by  its  means 
able  to  bring  the  results  of  physiological  investigations 
to  the  proper  understanding  of  phenomena  universally 
recognized  as  psychical. 

Nathan  A.  Harvey. 

Ypsilanti,  Michigan,  October  8,  1913. 


THE  FEELINGS  OF  MAN 
Their  Nature,  Function  and  Interpretation 

Chapter  I. 
MEANING  OF  THE  TERMS. 

The  word  feeling  is  used  in  various  ways  to  signify 
many  different  things.  It  has  a  well  recognized  meaning 
nearly  synonymous  with  the  sense  of  touch.  We  may  tell 
by  feeling  whether  a  surface  is  smooth  or  rough,  hot  or 
cold,  wet  or  dry.  While  this  is  a  very  common  meaning, 
it  is  not  the  meaning  generally  employed  in  psychology. 

Feeling  also  describes  the  general  state  of  health;  as 
when  we  say  that  we  feel  bad,  or  sick,  or  well.  It  desig- 
nates the  general  sensation  which  scarcely  permits  of 
being  localized.  It  refers  to  the  state  of  the  body  as  a 
whole,  and  not  to  any  special  mental  process.  Closely 
related  to  this  use  of  the  word  is  one  that  indicates  cer- 
tain special  sensations,  as  when  we  say  that  we  feel  cold 
or  hungry.  Cold  and  hunger  are  strictly  sensations,  and 
the  use  of  the  word  feeling  to  describe  them  is  no  longer 
in  conformity  with  the  prevailing  usage  that  discrimi- 
nates sensation  from  the  affective  process.  This  use  of 
the  word  feeling  cannot  be  described  as  psychological, 
nor  one  in  which  it  will  be  employed  as  a  psychological 
term. 

Feeling  also  has  a  use  in  the  description  of  a  picture, 
or  other  work  of  art.  As  there  employed,  it  means  a  par- 
ticular characteristic  of  the  artistic  production  that 
renders  it  capable  of  appealing  to  the  emotional  or  feel- 
ing side  of  the  nature  of  the  individual.  It  is  rather  a 
figurative  use,  and  not  at  all  scientific  in  its  application. 
It  is  not  truly  a  psychological  meaning. 

1 


2         .;  TBE    ^EHLiNGS   OF    MAN 

As  a  psychological  term,  the  word  feeling  is  used  with 
many  different  shades  of  meaning,  and  it  is  necessary  to 
discriminate  them  clearly  in  order  to  avoid  confusion 
while  reading  the  works  of  different  writers  upon  psy- 
chology. We  shall  obtain  a  wrong  impression  of  an  au- 
thor's thought  if  we  put  the  same  meaning  into  the  word 
feeling  in  reading  his  works  that  we  do  when  reading 
those  of  another.  So  serious  is  this  discrepancy  that 
many  psychologists  refuse  to  employ  the  term  feeling,  and 
seek  some  word  that  is  not  so  well  known,  and  which  has 
not  so  many  diverse  connotations.  But  the  advantage 
to  be  obtained  from  its  use  seems  to  justify  the  attempt 
to  free  it  from  undesirable  associations  and  to  make  its 
meaning  clear  and  definite. 

One  use  of  the  word  makes  it  mean  merely  pleasure 
and  pain.  Nothing  else  is  feeling,  and  all  feelings  are 
either  pleasures  or  pains.  It  would  appear  that  this  use 
of  the  word  is  too  limited  to  meet  general  approval,  and 
it  is  incompatible  with  the  analysis  of  feeling  that  is 
made  in  this  book.  It  implies  that  we  may  have  a  feel- 
ing of  pain  rather  than  a  painful  feeling;  it  asserts  that 
pain  is  the  feeling,  rather  than  merely  a  property  of  it. 
Hence  we  shall  not  adopt  this  meaning. 

Another  use  of  the  word  designates  by  it  an  affective 
process  of  a  particular  degree  of  complexity.  It  is  less 
complex  than  an  emotion  and  more  complex  than  an  af- 
fection. The  attempt  is  made  to  discriminate  affective 
processes  by  means  of  their  complexity,  and  to  classify 
them  upon  that  basis.  It  is  doubtful  if  such  an  attempt 
can  be  satisfactory  or  very  successful.  It  would  be  dif- 
ficult to  discriminate  a  complex  feeling  or  affective  process 
from  a  simple  one,  and  even  if  it  could  be  done,  the  rela- 
tion so  exhibited  would  scarcely  contribute  anything  of 
value  to  our  knowledge  of  the  subject.  It  is  necessary 
for  us  to  recognize,  however,  that  the  word  is  sometimes 
thus  employed,  although  such  use  may  not  commend  itself 
to  us. 


MEANING  OF   THE   TEEMS  O 

A  third  function  of  the  word  makes  it  mean  a  combina- 
tion of  intellectual  and  affective  elements.  The  total  of 
a  mental  experience,  especially  if  it  is  a  relatively  simple 
one,  with  all  its  elements,  is  called  a  feeling.  This  use 
is  not  far  removed  from  the  practice  of  those  persons  who 
speak  of  an  intellectual  feeling,  by  which  is  generally 
meant  an  obscure  or  indefinite  perception  of  a  relation 
not  clearly  defined.  But  to  call  the  simple  intellectual 
process  in  its  totality  a  feeling  is  rather  out  of  harmony 
with  the  present  tendency  to  discriminate  sharply  the 
cognitive  elements  in  a  mental  experience  from  the  af- 
fective. If  we  were  to  employ  the  word  in  this  sense  to 
mean  the  totality  of  a  mental  experience,  we  should  still 
need  some  term  by  which  to  discriminate  the  affective 
from  the  cognitive  elements.  It  would  seem  preferable 
to  reserve  the  word  feeling  for  the  affective  elements 
alone,  and  to  employ  some  other  word  to  designate  the 
intellectual  or  cognitive  elements.  Certainly,  every 
mental  process  is  capable  of  such  an  analysis,  and  the 
word  feeling  has  already  such  important  connotations 
with  the  affective  elements  that  it  is  doing  violence  to  the 
language  of  psychology  to  include  cognitive  elements 
within  its  limits. 

Another  use  of  the  word  limits  it  to  those  affective 
states  that  accompany  ideas,  or  mental  processes  more 
complex  and  of  a  higher  order  than  sensations,  which  in- 
volve the  activities  of  the  senses.  Pain  or  pleasure — the 
affective  conditions  that  accompany  the  activities  of  the 
senses-^are  not  classed  as  feelings,  but  called  by  some 
other  name;  sensations,  appetites,  desires,  or  some  other 
designation  than  feelings.  The  word  feeling  in  this  con- 
nection is  reserved  for  the  activity  of  some  other  portion 
of  the  human  complex  than  the  bodily  organs;  it  is  re- 
served for  the  activity  of  the  mind,  or  the  soul,  or  the 
self  active  entity  that  is  assumed  to  be  independent  of 
the  physical  conditions.    While  the  persons  who  adhere 


4  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

to  this  use  of  the  word  would  not  so  describe  it,  we  may 
say  that  this  use  of  the  word  feeling  is  limited  to  the  af- 
fective states  that  are  the  concomitants  of  centrally  in- 
itiated impulses,  while  it  is  distinctly  not  employed  to 
designate  the  states  that  are  accompanied  by  peripherally 
initiated  impulses.  It  would  seem  as  if  this  were  scarcely 
a  justifiable  discrimination,  since  affective  processes  cer- 
tainly accompany  the  activity  of  sense  organs.  Although 
it  is  employed  by  some  good  writers,  there  seems  to  be 
no  sufficient  reason  for  limiting  the  word  feeling  to  this 
use. 

Instead  of  the  word  feeling,  the  idea  which  it  connotes 
is  often  expressed,  in  whole  or  in  part,  by  other  terms. 
Emotion  is  a  very  common  synonym  for  feeling,  and  when 
so  used  it  is  given  quite  an  extensive  application.  Darwin 
uses  it  in  the  title  of  his  book  The  Expression  of  the  Emo- 
tions. Many  other  writers  have  employed  it  to  mean  all 
that  we  shall  expect  to  mean  by  feeling.  The  word  emo- 
tion also  has  a  variety  of  meanings,  but  as  it  is  used  by 
Darwin,  it  is  almost  completely  synonymous  with  feeling 
in  the  widest  sense  of  the  word.  Sometimes  the  word 
emotion  is  not  completely  synonymous  with  it  but  ex- 
presses an  affective  state  of  a  higher  degree  of  complexity. 
Affection,  mood,  sentiment,  temperament  express  other 
degrees  of  complexity  among  affective  processes. 

Sensibility  is  sometimes  used  to  express  the  entire 
range  of  the  affective  life.  When  so  used,  it  is  correlative 
to  intellect  and  wiU.  All  mental  life  was  once  supposed 
to  be  capable  of  distribution  into  three  great  groups  of 
powers:  intellect,  sensibility,  and  will.  Sensibility  was 
defined  as  the  group  of  powers  by  which  we  feel.  This 
use  of  the  word  is  wholly  inadequate  to  express  the  newer 
conception  of  feeling,  and  the  word  sensibility  has  al- 
most disappeared  from  psychological  literature. 

Sensation  is  the  most  troublesome  of  all  the  synonyms 
for  feeling  in  common  use.    The  difficulty  arises  from  a 


MBANINQ  or  THE  TERMS  5 

failure  to  discriminate  sensation  as  an  intellectual,  or 
knowing  process,  from  the  affective  side  of  the  process, 
which  is  properly  called  feeling  or  affection.  Even  in 
recent  books  of  the  highest  authority  the  distinction  is 
not  clearly  maintained.  Formerly  no  attempt  was  made 
to  discriminate  the  two  processes  involved  in  an  activity 
of  the  sense  organs,  and  this  use  of  the  word  sensation  per- 
sists. In  this  use  it  is  almost  completely  synonymous  with 
feeling,  as  described  in  the  third  function  of  the  word 
above.  In  common  speech  today,  even  among  well  in- 
formed persons,  sensation  as  frequently  means  a  process 
characterized  by  pleasure  or  pain,  as  one  which  merely 
gives  knowledge  of  an  outside  event. 

However,  among  psychologists  the  tendency  for  a  good 
many  years  has  been  to  limit  the  word  sensation  to  the 
intellectual  process  accompanying  the  activity  of  the 
sense  organs,  and  to  employ  the  word  feeling,  or  affec- 
tion, to  designate  the  affective  process  that  occurs  at  the 
same  time.  It  is  possible  to  discriminate  by  a  process  of 
abstraction  the  cognitive  from  the  affective  side  of  a 
sensory  process,  and  the  word  sensation  has  come  to  mean 
properly  the  cognitive  side.  In  order  to  avoid  the  misun- 
derstanding that  seems  likely  to  arise  from  the  use  of  the 
word  sensation,  some  writers  have  chosen  to  employ  the 
phrase  simple  sentience  to  express  the  cognitive  process, 
and  to  use  some  other  word,  such  as  affection,  to  express 
the  affective  side  of  the  same  process.  It  seems,  however, 
that  the  prevailing  tendency  is  to  limit  the  word  sensa- 
tion to  the  intellectual  process,  and  to  distinguish  the  af- 
fective accompaniments  by  another  term.  No  harm  will 
be  done  if  we  adhere  strictiy  to  the  general  custom  among 
psychologists,  and  employ  sensation  to  express  the  simple 
intellectual  process  that  accompanies  the  activity  of  a 
sense  organ,  giving  us  knowledge,  and  making  us  ac- 
quainted with  the  quality  of  an  object.  We  may  use  the 
term  affection  to  express  that  kind  of  feeling  which  may 


6  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

be  pleasurable  or  painful,  that  accompanies  the  sensa- 
tion, but  by  sensation  we  shall  always  mean  a  simple 
knowing  process. 

It  is  not  strange  that  this  confusion  in  the  use  of  the 
term  sensation  should  exist.  Sense,  sensation,  sensi- 
bility— all  contain  the  same  root  meaning,  and  at  a  time 
when  the  affective  and  cognitive  elements  were  not  clearly 
distinguished  from  each  other,  sensation  was  applied  to 
both,  and  adhered  rather  more  closely  to  the  affective 
process  than  to  the  cognitive. 

Instead  of  the  word  feeling,  some  of  the  most  careful 
writers  employ  the  compound  form  pleasure-pain  to  ex- 
press the  general  affective  process.  This  use  of  the  term 
assumes  that  pleasure  and  pain  constitute  the  feeling, 
and  that  there  are  no  other  processes  that  may  be  desig- 
nated by  that  name,  while  every  feeling  is  either  a  pleas- 
ure or  a  pain.  As  will  be  shown  in  later  chapters,  this 
determination  of  feeling  cannot  be  maintained,  and  con- 
sequently some  other  form  of  expression  must  be  em- 
ployed. It  will  be  shown  that  pleasure  and  pain  are 
merely  properties  of  feeling  and  not  the  feeling  itself.  To 
use  pleasure-pain  in  this  sense  of  the  word  is  to  commit 
ourselves  to  a  certain  theory  of  the  nature  of  feeling  that 
is  not  satisfactory. 

The  confusion  in  the  use  of  the  terms  feeling,  sensa- 
tion, pleasure-pain,  and  pain  is  rendered  greater  than  it 
would  otherwise  be  by  the  fact  that  by  many  writers  pain 
is  considered  to  be  a  sensation  in  the  purely  intellectual 
use  of  the  word.  It  is  not  considered  to  be  a  feeling,  nor 
an  affective  process  of  any  kind,  but  a  purely  intellectual 
sensation.  It  is  believed  to  be  as  truly  a  sense  as  is  the 
sense  of  temperature  or  the  sense  of  touch.  So  wide 
spread  is  this  conviction  that  it  is  necessary  for  us  to  ex- 
amine the  matter  carefully  and  to  state  our  reasons  for 
failing  to  agree  to  the  proposition. 

The  notion  that  pain  is  a  sensation  perhaps  originated 


MEANING   OF   THE   TERMS  7 

with  Goldscheider,  who  discovered  the  end  organs  for  the 
sense  of  temperature  and  discriminated  the  sense  of  heat 
from  the  sense  of  cold.  He  believed  that  he  had  discov- 
ered the  end  organs  of  pain,  or  spots  to  which  if  a  stim- 
ulus were  applied  a  distinct  sensation  of  pain  was  pro- 
duced, unlike  the  sensation  arising  from  the  activity  of 
other  senses.  He  believed  that  the  activity  of  the  other 
senses  would  in  no  case  afford  the  sensation  of  pain,  un- 
less there  were  pain  spots  or  end  organs  of  pain  that 
should  be  stimulated  at  the  same  time  or  by  the  same 
stimulus.  He  believed  that  he  had  discovered  that  the 
pain  stimulus  was  transmitted  through  definite  columns 
of  the  spinal  cord,  and  by  inference,  that  we  should  find 
all  pain  impulses  transmitted  to  a  pain  center  in  the 
brain.  In  several  popular  books  on  psychology  and 
physiology  we  find  a  portion  of  the  brain  designated  as 
the  area  for  touch,  pain,  and  temperature. 

Goldscheider's  exposition  of  the  matter  was  very  favor- 
ably received  for  several  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  the 
new  psychology,  which  is  distinguished  from  the  old 
largely  by  the  much  greater  emphasis  which  it  lays  upon 
physiological  processes,  had  manifested  a  decided  weak- 
ness in  dealing  with  the  feelings.  The  anatomical  investi- 
gations of  nerve  structure,  and  the  methods  of  experiment 
that  had  proved  so  successful  with  the  intellectual  proc- 
esses, failed  to  accomplish  equally  satisfactory  results 
when  applied  to  the  feelings.  There  existed  a  general 
impression  that  in  some  way  the  intellectual  processes 
were  paralleled  by  the  feeling  processes,  and  the  simplest 
expression  of  this  view  was  to  postulate  a  parallelism  in 
the  nervous  system,  with  one  system  of  end  organs,  nerve 
tracts,  and  brain  center  for  the  intellectual  processes, 
and  another  system  of  end  organs,  nerve  tracts,  and  brain 
centers  for  feelings.  Ladd,  in  his  Outlines  of  Physiologi- 
cal Psychology,  tolerates  the  suggestion  by  remarking 
(p.  388)  "the  tendency  of  recent  evidence  toward  a  some- 


8  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

what  complete  separation  of  the  nervous  mechanism 
whose  excitement  produces  feelings  of  sensuous  pain  and 
pleasure  from  that  whose  excitement  results  in  the  pro- 
duction of  the  sensations  themselves."  It  is  not  uncom- 
mon to  find  in  books  on  elementary  physiology  and  psy- 
chology, diagrams  in  which  the  area  of  the  feelings  is 
located  in  the  frontal  lobes  of  the  brain. 

The  above  represents  one  tendency  regarding  the  feel- 
ings that  favored  the  adoption  of  Goldscheider's  views. 
Another  was  a  tendency  to  reduce  the  feelings  to  an  in- 
tellectual basis  and  to  diminish  the  difference  between 
feeling  and  intellect,  the  tendency  being  to  show  that  the 
two  were  in  the  last  analysis  identical ;  that  feeling  was 
an  obscure,  indefinite  process  which,  when  it  should  be- 
come definite  and  clear,  would  be  sensation.  That  pain 
should  be  considered  a  sensation  appeared  to  be  the  first 
step  in  that  direction,  and  a  promise  that  the  exceedingly 
difficult  problem  of  finding  a  physiological  interpretation 
for  feeling  was  in  the  process  of  being  solved. 

This  attitude  of  the  leaders  of  the  New  Psychology  to- 
ward the  interpretation  of  pain  as  a  sensation  was 
favored  by  the  difficulties  which  the  Old  Psychology  had 
encountered.  Believing  as  they  did  that  feeling  was  an 
activity  of  the  mind,  the  older  dualistic  psychologists 
were  unable  to  account  for  the  pain  involved  in  the  ac- 
tivity of  the  sense  organs;  hence  they  were  inclined  to 
distinguish  feeling  proper,  an  activity  of  the  mind,  from 
pain,  an  affection  of  the  physical  organism.  So  the  propo- 
sition of  Goldscheider  to  regard  pain  as  an  intellectual 
sensation  was  consonant  with  the  views  of  both  kinds  of 
psychologists.  When  Goldscheider  reported  that  he  had 
discovered  pain  spots  on  the  skin,  the  accuracy  of  his  in- 
vestigations was  readily  accepted. 

The  evidence  for  regarding  pain  as  a  sensation  may  be 
summed  up  under  four  heads:  First,  that  there  are 
places  in  the  body  in  which  a  stimulus  will  arouse  only 


MEANING  OF  THE  TERMS  9 

sensations  of  pain  without  the  sensation  of  touch.  Such 
a  place  is  the  cornea  of  the  eye.  Second,  that  there  are 
places,  such  as  the  inside  of  the  cheek,  in  which  the  sensa- 
tion of  touch  may  be  aroused  without  arousing  the  sensa- 
tion of  pain,  no  matter  how  strong  the  stimulus  may  be- 
come. Third,  certain  drugs,  such  as  cocaine,  will  destroy 
the  sensation  of  pain,  while  leaving  the  sensation  of 
touch  unaffected.  Fourth,  certain  other  drugs,  such  as 
saponin,  will  destroy  the  sensation  of  touch,  while  it 
leaves  unaffected  the  sensation  of  pain. 

The  evidence  furnished  by  these  several  lines  of  experi- 
ment scarcely  seems  conclusive.  As  will  be  shown  later, 
each  of  the  classes  of  facts  that  are  relied  upon  to  prove 
the  sensational  character  of  pain  may  better  be  explained 
by  some  other  hypothesis.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  no 
suggestion  of  the  presence  of  pleasure  spots,  or  pleasure 
sensation,  and  pleasure  is  always  considered  the  comple- 
ment of  pain.  There  is  no  special  stimulus  especially 
adapted  to  pain,  as  there  is  for  every  other  sensation,  but 
any  stimulus  that  will  establish  an  impulse  in  any  other 
kind  of  a  sense  organ  may  be  the  origin  of  an  impulse 
that  is  painful.  When  we  put  with  this  the  fact  that 
there  are  no  organs  in  the  skin  that  can  positively  be 
demonstrated  to  be  the  end  organs  of  pain,  we  are  justi- 
fied in  refusing  to  credit  the  notion  that  all  pain  is  a 
sensation,  and  the  result  of  the  stimulation  of  special 
pain  organs. 

Pain  occurs  in  the  function  of  any  sense  whenever  the 
intensity  of  the  stimulus  reaches  a  certain  degree.  The 
function  of  any  sense  organ,  when  stimulated  in  a  mod- 
erate degree,  affords  pleasure,  but  when  the  stimulation 
greatly  exceeds  the  pleasure-giving  intensity,  the  feeling 
associated  with  the  sensation  is  a  painful  one.  Conse- 
quently, many  of  the  best  and  most  recent  writers  upon 
physiology  have  refused  to  adopt  the  theory.  Morat 
(Physiology  of  the  Nervous  System,  p.  402)   says  that 


10  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

"Pain  requires  no  special  apparatus  for  its  production. 
There  is  no  organ  of  special  pain  sense,  and  there  are  no 
special  conductors  of  pain.  There  is  no  system  that  prop- 
erly belongs  to  it."  This  seems  to  express  very  clearly 
the  most  recent  tendency  among  physiologists  concerning 
the  question  of  pain.  We  may  properly  conclude,  then, 
that  pain  is  not  a  sensation,  but  belongs  to  the  affective 
side  of  mental  life,  and  constitutes  a  property  of  feeling. 
The  truth  of  the  matter  seems  to  be  that  psychologists 
have  discovered  in  the  skin  one  or  more  sensations  that 
are  not  touch  nor  temperature,  which  are  not  sharply 
characterized  in  themselves,  nor  sharply  differentiated 
from  each  other.  One  of  these,  at  least,  has  been  inju- 
diciously characterized  as  the  sensation  of  pain,  and  we 
are  permitted  to  infer  that  all  pain  arises  as  the  con- 
comitant of  the  stimulation  of  these  particular  sense  or- 
gans. Itching  and  stinging  are  by  some  psychologists  de- 
scribed as  merely  different  forms  of  this  same  pain  sensa- 
tion. We  are  even  required  to  subscribe  to  the  paradox 
that  pain  may  not  always  be  painful,  but  that  many  times 
it  is  even  pleasurable. 

There  is  no  objection  to  a  writer  using  any  word  that 
he  desires  to  employ  to  express  an  idea,  provided  he  states 
at  the  outset  the  sense  in  which  he  intends  to  employ  it, 
and  adheres  rigidly  to  that  meaning.  It  is  advantageous, 
however,  to  use  any  word  in  as  nearly  the  ordinary  sense 
as  possible,  since  it  renders  it  less  difficult  for  readers  to 
understand  his  thought.  The  word  feeling  seems  to  be 
the  word  which  is  most  available,  and  the  most  nearly 
satisfactory  to  express  the  idea  that  constitutes  the  sub- 
ject of  this  book. 

By  feeling  we  shall  mean  throughout  this  book  any 
kind  of  an  affective  process,  simple  or  complex,  painful  or 
pleasurable,  vivid  or  faint.  We  shall  mean  by  it  any 
emotional  state,  sentiment,  or  mood.    It  will  express  any 


MEANING   OF   THE   TERMS  11 

activity  that  might  by  the  older  psychologists  have  been 
classified  under  the  head  of  sensibility.  We  shall  care- 
fully discriminate  feeling  from  the  intellectual  or  cogni- 
tive process,  and  shall  strive  consistently  to  maintain  this 
distinction.  Such  use  of  the  word  has  abundant  justifica- 
tion in  the  practice  of  many  writers,  although  others  have 
limited  it  very  much  in  the  manner  described  above. 

At  the  very  outset  we  are  confronted  with  a  difficulty 
in  definition.  We  have  already  described  feeling  as  any 
kind  of  an  affective  process,  but  it  is  as  difficult  to  define 
affection  as  it  is  to  define  feeling.  Feeling  is  something 
that  every  one  knows  but  no  one  can  define,  since  there  is 
nothing  simpler  to  which  it  can  be  compared,  nor  any- 
thing else  that  it  can  be  said  to  resemble.  We  may  de- 
fine it  as  a  mental  process,  and  then  discriminate  it  from 
other  mental  processes  like  sensation  or  cognition.  An 
intellectual  process  such  as  sensation  causes  us  to  know 
something.  It  is  a  process  that  establishes  a  correspond- 
ence between  our  internal  experience  and  the  outside  sit- 
uation. It  gives  us  knowledge  of  something,  often  of  the 
outside  world.  By  feeling  we  do  not  learn  anything,  but 
it  is  purely  a  subjective  experience.  It  is  a  very  satisfac- 
tory statement  of  Hoffding  that  feeling  might  be  defined 
as  that  in  our  inward  states  which  cannot  by  any  possi- 
bility become  an  element  in  a  percept  or  an  image. 

When  we  describe  feeling  as  an  affective  process  we  dis- 
criminate it  from  an  intellectual  process.  But  this 
renders  it  necessary  that  we  should  define  affective  proc- 
ess or  affection.  The  definition  of  affection  involves  the 
same  difficulty  as  does  the  definition  of  feeling,  and  for 
the  same  reason.  But  if  we  cannot  make  a  logical  defini- 
tion of  affection,  we  can  at  least  point  out  some  of  its  dis- 
tinguishing characteristics  by  which  we  may  know  it. 
For  our  present  purpose,  we  may  define  affection  as  any 
kind  of  a  mental  process  that  has  for  its  conspicuous  char- 
acteristic pleasure  or  pain.    If  we  shall  for  the  present 


12  THE   FEELINGS  OP   MAN 

regard  pleasure  or  pain  as  the  affection  itplf,  we  shall 
establish  a  basis  for  discussion  that  may  afterward  be 
modified  so  that  it  shall  be  accurate.  Pleasure  or  pain  is 
not  the  affection  itself,  but  merely  a  distinguishing  char- 
acteristic, expressing  not  its  true  nature,  but  serving  as 
an  identification  mark.  Feeling,  then,  is  any  kind  of  an 
affective  process. 

Synopsis. 

1 — Sensation  is  a  simple  mental  process  that  makes  us 
acquainted  with  a  quality  of  an  ohject.  It  is  a  cognitive, 
or  knowing  process.  It  may  he  accompanied  hy  a  peri- 
pherally or  a  centrally  initiated  impulse,  it  may  he  vivid 
or  faint. 

2 — Affection  is  a  simple  mental  process  that  is  purely 
subjective,  gives  us  no  information  of  the  outside  world, 
and  has  for  its  distinguishing  characteristic  pleasure  or 
pain. 

3 — Feeling  is  any  kind  of  an  affective  process, ^simple 
or  complex,  painful  or  pleasurable,  vivid  or  faint. 


Chapter  II. 
THEORIES  OF  FEELING. 

It  is  evident  to  every  psychologist  that  our  knowledge 
of  feeling  and  the  "state  of  the  art"  (to  use  the  lan- 
guage of  the  patent  office)  is  in  an  extremely  unsatisfac- 
tory condition.  Notwithstanding  the  enormous  activity 
in  psychological  study  in  the  past  twenty-five  years,  our 
knowledge  of  feeling  is  scarcely  in  advance  of  that  which 
existed  before  the  advent  of  the  New  Psychology.  It 
seems  that  the  New  Psychology  has  been  scarcely  more 
successful  than  the  old  in  the  study  of  the  feelings,  and 
that  the  processes  of  experiment  and  physiological  in- 
vestigation have  so  far  failed  to  lend  themselves  readily 
to  the  study  of  feelings.  Up  to  the  present,  it  appears 
that  James's  theory  of  feeling  has  been  the  greatest  ad- 
vance that  the  New  Psychology  has  made,  and  James's 
theory  has  failed  to  attain  universal  ascendency. 

It  is  necessary  in  studying  the  "state  of  the  art"  to 
know  what  theories  of  feeling  have  been  held  and  have 
guided  investigation.  Some  theory  is  necessary,  or  a 
large  part  of  investigation  will  be  utterly  useless  and 
wasted  effort. 

The  first  theory  to  be  considered  we  may  call  the  com- 
mon theory,  for  it  was  formerly  universal  among  psychol- 
ogists, and  is  held  today  by  almost  all  well  informed  per- 
sons who  are  not  psychologists.  This  common  theory 
assumes  that  feeling  is  an  activity  of  a  self  existent,  self 
active  entity  called  mind,  or  soul,  and  is  one  of  the  three 
kinds  of  activities — thinking,  feeling,  and  willing — of 
which  this  entity  is  capable.    There  is  no  cause  for  the 

18 


14  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

feeling  except  the  self  activity  of  the  mind  itself.  The 
mind  may  feel  in  one  way  or  another  according  to  the  cir- 
cumstances, but  it  is  not  compelled  to  do  so,  nor  is  the 
feeling  the  result  of  outside  circumstances,  but  only  of 
the  inside  activity.  The  mind  is  the  cause  of  its  own  feel- 
ing. 

It  is  this  conception  of  the  nature  of  feeling  that  leads 
to  the  distinction  between  physical  feeling,  associated 
with  sensation,  and  the  activity  of  sense  organs  on  the 
one  hand,  and  mental  feeling,  or  unpleasantness,  unre- 
lated to  sensation  on  the  other.  Physical  feeling  is  de- 
termined by  the  action  of  some  outside  force  upon  the 
body,  while  mental  feeling  is  determined  only  by  the  ac- 
tivity of  the  mind  itself.  Hence  it  is  that  there  is  an 
indisposition  to  consider  physical  feeling,  associated  with 
the  activity  of  the  bodily  organs,  as  feeling,  but  a  readi- 
ness to  relegate  it  to  the  domain  of  sensation,  an  intel- 
lectual, or  at  least,  a  non-emotional  process. 

Also,  it  is  a  consequence  of  this  theory  of  feeling  as  an 
activity  of  the  entity  called  mind  that  we  are  led  to  talk 
about  the  cultivation  of  the  feelings.  It  is  understood 
that  the  mind  grows  and  becomes  more  skillful  in  any  of 
its  activities  by  practice.  Hence  practice  in  experiencing 
feelings  will  increase  the  facility  of  such  activities,  and 
feelings  are  cultivated  by  their  exercise.  Perhaps  this  is 
one  of  the  most  pernicious  doctrines  that  has  arisen  from 
the  common  theory  of  feeling,  and  one  whose  origin  is 
seldom  recognized. 

When  a  feeling  has  been  experienced,  it  is  then  ex- 
pressed. According  to  the  theory,  expression  is  not  nec- 
essary to  the  feeling  activity,  but  is  merely  a  matter  of 
convenience  or  indirect  benefit.  Hence  there  are  ex- 
pressive muscles  some  of  which  are  believed  to  have  little 
use  except  for  expression.  The  feeling  precedes  the  ex- 
pression, and  the  expression  is  not  necessary  to  the  feel- 
ing activity. 


THEORIES   OF   FEELING  15 

Upon  this  theory  of  feeliDg,  there  is  little  that  can  be 
said  concerning  the  relation  of  the  feeling  activity  to  the 
body  or  the  nervous  system.  If  we  limit  our  use  of  the 
term  feeling  to  the  psychical  or  mental  feeling,  as  distin- 
guished from  the  physical  feeling,  the  condition  of  the 
nervous  system  can  have  but  little  influence  upon  it. 
Whatever  the  connection  between  bodily  state  and  feel- 
ing process  may  be,  it  is  not  a  causal  one,  nor  one  of  the 
most  intimate  kind. 

The  nature  of  the  connection  between  the  feeling  activ- 
ity and  the  intellectual  process  is  not  very  satisfactorily 
determined,  nor  is  it  very  intimate.  The  two  are  not  in- 
separable, but  each  may  manifest  itself  independently  of 
the  other.  It  is  believed  that  the  intellectual  process 
precedes  the  feeling  process,  and  that  the  feeling  process 
is  determined,  in  part  at  least,  by  the  intellectual  process. 
The  person  must  know  before  he  can  feel,  but  the  kind  of 
feeling  experienced  is  not  necessarily  dependent  upon  the 
thing  that  is  known.  The  mind  can  feel  as  it  wishes  to 
feel,  no  matter  what  may  be  the  nature  of  the  intellectual 
process  that  precedes. 

One  other  thing  is  generally  assumed  in  the  relation 
between  intellect  and  feeling,  as  growing  out  of  this  com- 
mon theory:  namely,  the  stronger  the  intellect,  the 
stronger  the  feeling.  The  mind  that  is  vigorous  is  vigor- 
ous in  all  of  its  activities.  If  it  is  vigorous  intellectually, 
it  is  equally  vigorous  affectively.  The  relation  between 
the  two  is  a  direct  one.  It  can  readily  be  seen  how  such 
a  conception  of  the  relation  between  intellect  and  feeling 
is  derived  from  a  consideration  of  a  theory  rather  than 
from  an  examination  of  the  facts. 

While  this  theory  is  stated  above  in  its  most  extreme 
form,  and  some  evident  conclusions  drawn  that  are 
seldom  so  bluntly  expressed,  something  like  this  in  a 
more  or  less  modified  form  is  the  common  opinion  about 
feeling.    It  is  unnecessary  to  state  that  modern  psychol- 


16  THE   FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

ogy  knows  nothing  of  this  mysterious  entity  that  is  self- 
active,  and  whose  self -activity  occasions  the  thinking, 
feeling,  and  willing.  It  is  impossible  to  consider  the 
feelings  as  self  caused,  or  caused  by  the  self-activity  of 
the  mind.  To  postulate  such  a  self  active  entity  as  a 
cause  of  feeling  is  to  leave  the  domain  of  science  and  enter 
upon  that  of  mythology.  Much  of  our  psychology  looks 
for  an  explanation  of  the  origin  of  feeling  in  the  nervous 
and  cerebral  condition  of  the  individual  who  experiences 
the  feeling,  consequently  a  more  nearly  adequate  theory 
of  feeling  is  demanded. 

James's  theory  asserts  that  the  expression  of  the  feel- 
ing occurs  first,  and  is  the  cause  of  the  feeling  itself.  We 
are  not  first  pleased  and  then  laugh,  but  we  laugh  first 
and  next  experience  the  feeling.  We  weep  and  then  we 
are  sorry.  We  run  or  shriek,  and  then  experience  the 
feeling  of  fear.  In  this  theory  we  have  a  direct  contradic- 
tion of  the  common  theory,  which  asserts  that  the  feeling 
precedes  the  expression  and  is  the  cause  of  it.  James's 
theory  asserts  that  the  expression  comes  first  and  is  the 
cause  of  the  feeling. 

James's  theory  has  received  very  wide  acceptance  and 
is  believed  in  a  more  or  less  modified  form  by  a  majority 
of  all  psychologists  today.  It  has  been  a  very  fertile 
theory  leading  to  much  valuable  investigation,  and  exer- 
cising even  more  influence  upon  the  study  of  other  de- 
partments of  psychology  than  upon  the  study  of  feeling 
itself.  It  conforms  closely  to  the  spirit  of  the  New  Psy- 
chology, and  in  that  fact  lies  the  principal  source  of  its 
strength.  Nevertheless,  it  contains  implications  incom- 
patible with  the  facts,  and  which  are  capable  of  being  dis- 
proved. 

The  interpretation  of  Mr.  James's  theory  involves  the 
following  essential  elements :  The  movement  that  we  are 
accustomed  to  call  the  expression  has  essentially  the  na- 


THEORIES   OP   FEELING  17 

ture  of  a  reflex.  There  is  no  mental  process  accompany- 
ing it,  but  it  is  the  direct  response  of  the  muscle  to  the 
stimulus  acting  upon  a  sense  organ.  When  the  reflex, 
expressive  movement  occurs,  a  backward  flowing  impulse 
is  established  in  the  muscle  that  has  contracted,  and  when 
this  backward  flowing  impulse  reaches  the  brain,  the  feel- 
ing is  experienced.  The  origin  of  the  nervous  accompani- 
ment of  the  feeling  is  the  contraction  of  the  muscle  by 
which  the  feeling  is  expressed. 

Mr.  James  argues  the  case  for  his  theory  very  skillfully, 
and  his  arguments  may  be  grouped  into  three  different 
classes:  First,  he  asserts  that  direct  observation  shows 
that  the  expression  precedes  the  feeling.  A  person  in 
great  danger  may  escape  from  the  danger,  and  only  after 
the  escape  does  he  experience  any  of  the  feeling  of  fear. 
The  movements  by  which  he  escapes  are  the  expressive 
movements,  and  precede  the  feeling. 

Examples  of  this  kind  may  be  cited  in  numbers,  but 
probably  as  many  examples  of  a  contrary  nature  may  be 
discovered.  The  answer  to  the  argument  is  a  direct  de- 
nial of  its  universality,  for  it  can  be  shown  that  not  in 
every  case  does  the  expression  precede  the  feeling.  The 
evidence  that  the  feeling  precedes  the  expression  is  just 
about  as  strong  as  that  the  expression  precedes  the  feel- 
ing. Even  as  it  stands,  there  is  a  necessity  for  assuming 
that  in  many  cases  the  expression  which  precedes  the 
feeling  occurs  in  some  internal  organ,  the  only  evidence 
of  whose  motion  is  the  feeling  itself,  or  that  the  expres- 
sion occurs  in  some  situation  where  direct  observation  is 
impossible.  It  is  even  necessary  to  assert  that  in  some 
cases  the  inhibition  of  the  movement  constitutes  the  ex- 
pression  itself. 

When  we  have  two  contrary  propositions,  one  of  which 
seems  to  be  supported  by  evidence  about  as  strong  as  the 


18  THE    FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

other,  it  is  always  wise  for  us  to  suspect  that  neither  of 
them  is  true,  but  that  the  explanation  will  be  found  by 
looking  in  some  other  direction.  Such  seems  to  be  the 
case  in  the  present  instance.  The  expression  does  not 
precede  the  feeling,  nor  does  the  feeling  precede  the  ex- 
pression, but  feeling  and  expression  occur  at  the  same 
time.  The  expression  is  not  the  cause  of  the  feeling,  nor 
the  feeling  the  cause  of  the  expression,  but  both  feeling 
and  expression  arise  from  the  same  cause  and  have  a 
direct  relation  to  each  other  through  that  causal  condi- 
tion. Certainly  the  feeling  and  the  expression  are  not 
separated  from  each  other  by  the  long  interval  of  time 
that  both  the  common  theory  and  the  James  theory  as- 
sume that  they  may  be.  This  fact  alone  should  have  been 
remarked,  and  should  have  influenced  our  decision. 

The  second  argument  advanced  by  the  supporters  of 
the  James  theory  is  that  inhibiting  the  expression  in- 
hibits the  feeling.  In  many  cases  this  is  true  and  in  many 
others  it  is  not  true.  Sometime  inhibiting  the  expression 
of  the  feeling  seems  to  increase  it.  Two  boys  who  are 
angry,  often  become  better  friends  after  having  given  ex- 
pression to  their  anger  by  a  fight.  The  truth  of  Hoff ding's 
statement,  that  the  concealment  of  a  feeling,  i.  e.,  the  in- 
hibition of  its  expression,  may  cause  it  to  penetrate  deeper 
into  the  nature  of  the  individual  {Psy etiology ,  p.  332)  is 
very  generally  recognized. 

As  will  be  shown  in  a  subsequent  chapter,  there  are 
three  processes  by  which  the  expression  of  a  feeling  may 
be  inhibited,  and  the  feeling  is  diminished  at  the  same 
time  by  two  of  the  processes,  while  it  is  rather  intensified 
by  the  third.  All  of  us  can  inhibit  the  expression  of  feel- 
ing to  some  extent  without  destroying  the  feeling,  or 
diminishing  its  intensity  to  anything  like  the  degree  that 
the  expression  has  been  inhibited.    Where  such  contra- 


THEORIES   OP   FEELING  19 

dictory  conditions  prevail,  it  seems  quite  evident  that  the 
explanation  offered  cannot  be  the  true  one. 

The  third  line  of  reasoning  is  somewhat  like  the  second : 
that  giving  expression  to  a  feeling,  induces  the  feeling. 
Actors  experience  the  feelings  that  they  portray.  Like 
the  other  arguments,  this  carries  with  it  a  partial  truth. 
Some  actors  do  experience  the  feelings  they  portray,  but 
other  actors  do  not.  All  of  us  in  some  degree,  and  some 
of  us  in  a  high  degree,  can  express  feelings  we  do  not  ex- 
perience. The  smoothness  of  social  relations  depends  in 
a  very  large  measure  upon  our  concealing  our  true  feel- 
ings and  expressing  feelings  we  do  not  experience.  The 
woman  who  receives  a  caller  and  says :  "O  how  glad  I  am 
to  see  you,"  then  when  the  caller  has  gone  away  remarks  : 
"That  old  cat,  I  hope  she  wall  never  come  here  any  more," 
is  a  living  demonstration  of  the  inadequacy  of  the  argu- 
ment. In  fact,  it  was  a  great  man  who  said  that  ''To  lie, 
gracefully,  is  the  chief  accomplishment  of  women." 

We  may  readily  admit  that  the  best  way  in  which  to  in- 
hibit the  feeling  is  to  actualize  the  condition  that  results 
in  the  non-performance  of  the  action  which  is  its  expres- 
sion, but  w^e  do  not  necessarily  agree  to  the  proposition 
that  such  inhibition  of  the  feeling  demonstrates  that  ex- 
pression is  its  cause.  We  may  readily  admit  that  the 
best  w^ay  in  which  to  engender  the  feeling  is  to  do  the 
things  that  renders  the  expression  natural  and  easy,  with- 
out committing  ourselves  to  the  proposition  that  the  ex- 
pression engenders  the  feeling.  It  is  possible  to  find  a 
more  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  relation  between 
the  feeling  and  its  expression  than  James's  theory  pre- 
sents. 

There  is  one  other  consideration  concerning  James's 
theory  that  ought  to  be  mentioned.  James's  theory  sup- 
poses that  the  expression  which  causes  the  feeling  is  a  re- 
flex.   It  is  the  very  nature  of  a  reflex  to  be  accompanied 


20  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

by  no  feeling.  The  reflex  is  the  direct  response  of  the 
tissues  to  a  stimulus,  and  in  no  case  is  it  accompanied  by 
any  feeling.  Many  of  our  most  completely  habitual  ac- 
tions approximate  closely  to  a  reflex,  and  as  they  more 
and  more  nearly  do  so,  feeling  disappears  from  them.  It 
is  a  universal  law  of  psychology  that  feeling  tends  to  dis- 
appear from  an  habitual  act,  and  our  most  habitual  acts 
resemble  reflexes  so  closely  that  they  are  sometimes  called 
secondary  reflexes.  It  would  seem,  then,  that  if  the  re- 
flex is  the  cause  of  the  feeling,  our  most  habitual  actions 
ought  to  be  accompanied  most  uniformly  by  feeling,  which 
is  not  the  case. 

But,  if  it  be  called  to  mind  that  it  is  not  the  reflex  it- 
self thg^vcauses  the  feeling,  but  the  backward  flowing  im- 
pulse that  originates  in  the  contraction  of  the  muscle,  we 
are  committed  to  a  still  more  dangerous  proposition. 
The  backward  flowing  impulse  is  transmitted  to  some 
brain  center,  which  we  may  call  the  muscular  center  or 
the  center  for  muscular  sensation.  When  impulses  are 
transmitted  through  this  muscular  center,  we  experience 
the  muscular  sensation.  All  this  may  readily  be  ad- 
mitted, following  the  analogy  of  the  sight  center,  the  hear- 
ing center,  and  the  centers  for  taste  and  smell. 

This  would  imply,  then,  that  all  the  muscles  of  the 
body  have  nerves  running  into  this  muscular  center,  and 
since  it  is  the  important  center  in  the  production  of  the 
feelings,  we  have  a  definitely  localized  portion  of  the 
brain  in  which  every  feeling  originates.  Such  a  proposi- 
tion would  be  very  difficult  to  demonstrate,  and  would 
seriously  complicate  any  explanation  of  the  relation  be- 
tween feelings  and  the  intellectual  processes  that  are 
experienced  at  the  same  time.  In  fact,  it  would  seem  to 
render  unnecessary  any  direct  relation  between  the  two. 
Such  a  proposition  would  in  itself  lead  us  to  distrust  the 


THEORIES   OF   FEELING  21 

accuracy  of  the  determination  of  feeling  according  to 
James's  theory. 

I  have  characterized  James's  theory  as  the  most  im- 
portant contribution  of  the  New  Psychology  to  the  study 
of  the  feelings,  but  its  importance  is  not  a  consequence 
of  its  truth.  It  perhaps  would  never  have  accomplished 
the  amount  of  good  that  it  has  done  had  not  somebody 
believed  it  to  be  true,  but  the  good  that  it  has  accom- 
plished is  not  a  function  of  its  truth. 

One  of  the  most  significant  results  that  have  come  from 
a  discussion  of  James's  theory  is  the  great  importance  that 
psychologists  have  been  led  to  attach  to  the  muscular  sense. 
The  muscular  or  kinaesthetic  sense  has  come  into  psychol- 
ogy like  a  new  continent  into  geography.  So  important  is 
its  discovery  that  psychologists  have  been  completely  un- 
balanced by  it,  and  have  gone  to  the  unwarranted  extreme 
of  declaring  that  all  consciousness  is  motor,  no  impres- 
sion without  expression,  the  sensory  stimulus  must  ex- 
press itself  in  some  form  of  action  before  a  perception  can 
be  set  up,  etc.  The  advocates  of  this  extreme  form  of  the 
sensori-motor  arc  conception  of  consciousness  do  not 
shrink  from  the  conclusion  that  we  think  with  our  mus- 
cles rather  than  with  our  brains,  although  they  seldom 
state  it  so  bluntly.  If  we  were  to  accept  the  conclusion, 
that  all  consciousness  is  motor  and  a  muscular  move- 
ment is  a  necessary  condition  for  any  kind  of  thought, 
we  must  logically  expect  to  find  that  the  person  who  most 
persistently  and  most  vigorously  exercises  his  muscles 
is  the  most  vigorous  thinker  and  inevitably  does  the  great- 
est amount  of  intellectual  work.  The  direct  contradic- 
tory of  this  proposition  is  true. 

When  stated  thus  in  its  extreme  form,  the  advocates 
of  the  sensorimotor  arc  conception  of  consciousness  find 
it  very  difficult  to  account  for  the  fact  of  mental  action, 
or  how  any  kind  of  a  mental  process  can  determine  what 
an  action  shall  be.    Neither  the  intellectual  process  nor 


22  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

feeling  appears  to  be  a  determining  factor  in  the  action. 
Then  too,  the  fact  seems  to  be  overlooked  that  the  func- 
tion of  the  cortex  is  the  interposition  of  a  resistance  be- 
tween the  sensory  stimulus  and  the  motor  response,  which 
destroys  the  sensori-motor  arc,  and  is  fatal  to  the  theory. 

The  muscular  sensation  enters  into  the  composition  of 
very  many  perceptions,  as  well  as  into  many  other  mental 
processes.  It  seems  safe  to  assert  that  all  mental  action 
is  just  about  as  much  muscular  as  it  is  visual  or  auditory 
or  tactual.  However  much  emphasis  we  may  lay  upon 
the  muscular  sensation,  it  is  unwise  to  disregard  the  im- 
portance of  the  other  senses.  Even  if  we  admit  that  every 
feeling  is  accompanied  by  some  muscular  contraction 
that  we  may  call  the  expression,  and  that  every  intellect- 
ual process  does  eventuate  in  action,  it  w^ould  still  be 
incumbent  upon  us  to  show  that  such  action  is  a  neces- 
sary condition  rather  than  an  inevitable  accompaniment. 
It  may  be  perfectly  safe  to  assert  that  a  wagon  cannot 
run  without  noise,  but  it  becomes  exceedingly  difficult  to 
demonstrate  that  the  noise  pushes  the  wagon  along. 

James's  theory  has  been  rendered  more  acceptable  to 
psychologists  because  in  it  is  found  a  means  of  connecting 
the  feelings  with  the  physical  organism  in  a  way  that  the 
common  theory  did  not  do.  The  intellectual  processes 
had  been  associated  with  the  nerve  processes  quite  satis- 
factorily, and  James's  theory  furnished  a  means  of  un- 
derstanding how  a  similar  connection  might  be  made  with 
feeling.  It  was  directly  in  line  with  the  onward  move- 
ment of  the  new  psychology  at  a  time  that  the  new  psy- 
chology was  needing  some  physiological  interpretation 
for  feeling. 

While  James's  theory  is  the  oldest,  best  known,  and 
most  widely  accredited  of  all  theories  of  feeling  that  have 
their  origin  in  the  new  psychology,  it  has  not  been  uni- 
versally accepted,  but  many  other  theories  have  from 


THEORIES   OF    FEELING  23 

time  to  time  been  advanced.  We  may  readily  recognize 
two  different  types. 

One  type  is  of  the  kind  that  may  be  called  physiolog- 
ical, seeking  an  explanation  of  the  feelings  in  the  nervous 
conditions  that  determine  them.  The  other  type  disre- 
gards largely  the  physical  conditions,  and  may  be  called 
the  purely  mental,  or  psychological,  type  of  feeling 
theories. 

Of  the  latter,  one  kind  of  theory  regards  feeling  as  the 
accompaniment  of  a  struggle  between  ideas  or  other 
mental  processes.  Thus  Hamilton  says  {Metaphysics,  p. 
171)  ''pleasure  is  the  reflex  of  unforced  and  unimpeded 
ideas,"  while  Ribot,  quoting  Krafft-Ebing  (Emotions,  p. 
72),  says  "We  must  consider  psychic  pain  and  the  arrest 
of  ideas  as  coordinate  phenomena." 

In  this  type  of  theory  there  is  the  recognition  of  a  strug- 
gle, hesitation,  and  delay  in  the  psychic  processes.  If  the 
ideas  are  conceived  to  be  the  active  agents,  as  believed  by 
the  Herbartians,  feelings  originate  from  a  struggle  be- 
tween ideas.  With  others,  indecision,  hesitation,  delay, 
and  doubt  are  the  conditions  that  influence  and  give  rise 
to  feelings. 

Of  the  physiological  type  of  theory  there  are  many 
variations.  We  may,  however,  notice  two  distinct  groups : 
the  peripheral  and  the  central.  The  peripheral  group  of 
theories  considers  the  determining  concomitant  of  feel- 
ing to  be  the  activity  of  some  peripheral  organ,  either  the 
contraction  of  some  muscle  or  the  activity  of  some  other 
sense  organ  or  gland.  The  central  group  of  theories  as- 
sumes that  the  concomitant  of  feeling  is  the  activity  of  a 
cortical  center  which  may  have  been  induced  in  some  one 
or  another  of  many  different  ways.  James's  theory  as 
described  on  page  17  is  a  central  theory,  although,  as  it 
was  originally  stated  and  as  it  is  still  understood  by 
many  persons,  it  was  a  peripheral  theory. 

Meynert  regards  pain  as  originating  in  the  opposing 


24  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

activities  of  two  kinds  of  reflex  movements,  associated 
with  the  blood  vessels  and  the  muscles.  As  a  result  of 
these  two  kinds  of  movements  the  conductivity  of  the 
nervous  tissue  is  diminished  and  the  result  is  a  feeling  of 
pain.  This  explanation  is  limited  to  physical  pain,  and 
needs  to  be  very  much  modified  before  it  can  apply  to 
purely  mental  feelings  that  are  either  painful  or  pleasur- 
able. Like  James's  theory,  it  supposes  the  origin  of  feel- 
ing to  be  in  the  movements  of  some  other  substance  than 
the  nerve  tissue. 

Spencer  also  regards  feeling  as  associated  with  some 
kind  of  obstruction.  He  says:  "Physiologically  consid- 
ered, a  disagreeable  course  of  action  is  one  in  which  com- 
pound feelings  have  to  issue  in  compound  actions  through 
complex  nervous  structures  that  offer  considerable  re- 
sistance. (Psychology,  I,  p.  580.)  Also  he  says:  "Where 
action  is  perfectly  automatic  (without  resistance)  feel- 
ing does  not  exist"  (p.  478). 

It  would  seem  from  this  that  Mr.  Spencer  seeks  a 
physiological  explanation  of  the  origin  of  feeling  in  the 
impeded  action  of  the  nervous  current.  Whether  he 
would  make  such  an  explanation  apply  to  anything  else 
than  a  painful  feeling,  or  whether  he  would  explain  by  it 
any  other  property  of  feeling  than  the  painful,  or  perhaps 
the  pleasurable  tone,  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  say ;  but  it 
is  worthy  of  note  that  this  important  characteristic  of 
feeling  is  regarded  as  having  its  concomitant  in  the  ob- 
struction or  resistance  to  the  nervous  current. 

Henry  Rutgers  Marshall  regards  pain  and  pleasure  as 
the  concomitants  of  a  physiological  process  depending 
upon  the  relation  between  receipt  and  expenditure  of 
nervous  energy.  If  the  outflow  is  greater  than  the  intake, 
the  accompanying  feeling  is  pain ;  while  if  the  outflow  is 
less  than  the  intake,  the  resulting  feeling  is  pleasure.  If 
the  two  are  exactly  balanced,  the  feeling  is  one  of  indiffer- 
ence.   "Pain  is  experienced  whenever  the  physical  reac- 


THEORIES   OP   FEELING  25 

tion  which  determines  the  content  is  so  related  to  the  sup- 
ply of  nutriment  to  its  organ  that  the  energy  involved  in 
the  reaction  is  less  in  amount  than  the  energy  which  the 
stimulus  habitually  calls  forth.  Pleasure  is  experienced 
whenever  the  energy  involved  in  the  reaction  to  a  stimu- 
lus is  greater  in  amount  than  the  energy  which  the  stim- 
ulus habitually  calls  forth.  Pleasure  and  pain  are  primi- 
tive qualities  of  psychic  states  which  are  determined  by 
the  relation  between  capacity  and  activity  in  the  organ, 
the  activities  of  which  are  concomitants  of  the  psychoses 
involved."     {Pain,  Pleasure  and  Aesthetics j  p.  204.) 

There  is  much  to  be  said  in  favor  of  such  an  hypothesis 
as  this,  and  many  theories  that  have  been  propounded  in 
recent  years  involve  something  of  the  same  ideas.  The 
principal  criticism  of  Marshall's  theory  is  that  it  is  too 
limited,  making  feeling  synonymous  with  pleasure  and 
pain,  and  therefore  it  is  not  sufficiently  comprehensive  to 
explain  all  feelings.  It  scarcely  furnishes  an  explanation 
of  why  one  feeling  should  differ  from  another,  as  the 
feeling  of  fear  from  the  feeling  of  anger.  Both  may  be 
painful  feelings,  but  they  are  discriminated  by  other 
things  than  their  painful  or  pleasurable  character. 

Dr.  Paul  SoUier,  in  his  book  on  the  Mechanism  of  the 
Emotions,  meets  the  question  raised  by  James  of  the  or- 
der— perception,  emotion,  expression, — by  the  assertion 
that  the  expression  and  emotion  are  concomitant  and  not 
sequential.  Also,  he  considers  the  physiological  process 
that  gives  rise  to  the  feeling  to  be  a  central,  cerebral,  not 
a  peripheral  process. 

Another  group  of  theories  consider  feeling  as  the  con- 
comitant of  a  physiological  process  occurring  in  the 
brain,  and  consisting  of  the  radiation  of  a  nervous  im- 
pulse out  of  the  centers  through  which  it  is  passing  in  or- 
der to  give  rise  to  a  mental  process.  Bain,  (Mind  and 
Body,  p.  52)  :  "When  an  impression  is  accompanied  by 
feeling,  the  aroused  currents  diffuse  themselves  freely 


26  THE    FEELINGS    OF    MAN 

over  the  brain,  leading  to  a  general  agitation  of  the  mov- 
ing organs  as  well  as  affecting  the  viscera."  So  Hoffding, 
quoting  Kichet,  says  that  "pain  without  memory  and 
without  radiation  would  be  no  pain  at  all;"  also,  a  very 
significant  statement,  that  "Probably  it  presupposes  the 
subduing  of  a  great  resistance  in  the  central  nerve  or- 
gans." 

A  very  recent  theory  of  feeling  is  that  of  Professor  Max 
Meyer  who  says  that  "The  correlate  of  pleasantness  and 
unpleasantness  is  the  increase  or  decrease  of  the  intensity 
of  a  previously  constant  current,  if  the  increase  or  de- 
crease of  the  intensity  is  caused  by  a  force  acting  at  a 
point  other  than  the  point  of  stimulation.  {Psychological 
Review,  1908,  p.  307.) 

It  will  be  observed  in  all  these  theories  that  scarcely 
any  two  of  them  cover  exactly  the  same  points.  Hence  it 
is  that  nearly  all  of  them  are  partial,  explaining  only 
some  features  of  the  phenomena  of  feeling,  and  not  at  all 
adequate  to  serve  as  a  true  theory.  The  theories  that 
limit  themselves  to  a  consideration  of  pleasure  and  pain 
must  of  necessity  be  inadequate. 

It  appears  that  any  theory  of  feeling  to  be  satisfactory 
must  be  a  physiological  one,  or  must  correlate  the  mental 
experience  of  feeling  in  some  way  with  the  physiological 
process.  This  is  the  tendency  of  present  day  psychology 
by  means  of  which  the  greatest  progress  has  been  made, 
and  the  field  of  the  feelings  is  at  present  exceedingly 
promising.  In  order  to  be  a  satisfactory  theory,  it  must 
account  for  the  specific  difference  in  feeling,  i.  e.,  how 
the  feeling  of  fear  has  become  different  from  the  feeling 
of  love.  It  must  account  for  the  difference  in  intensity, 
as  well  as  the  painful  or  pleasurable  character  of  it.  It 
must  be  able  to  describe  the  relation  between  feeling  and 
expression,  as  well  as  its  relation  to  the  cognitive  process, 
and  other  forms  of  mental  activity.  None  of  the  theories 
that  have  as  yet  been  presented  do  all  of  these  things, 
and  we  have  still  a  satisfactory  theory  to  discover. 


Chapter  III. 

THE  DATA.  ^ 

The  greatest  need  in  the  study  of  the  feelings  today  is 
some  understandable  hypothesis  that  shall  coordinate 
all  of  the  facts  at  present  known,  and  guide  our  obser- 
vation and  experiment.  Much  has  been  learned  about 
feeling,  and  much  more  remains  to  be  discovered.  That 
our  energy  may  not  be  misdirected,  we  need  a  working 
hyopthesis. 

Any  hypothesis  is  better  than  none.  An  accumulation 
of  particular  instances  increases  our  knowledge  in  arith- 
metical progression,  but  the  discovery  of  particulars 
guided  by  a  working  hypothesis  increases  it  in  geometrical 
ratio.  It  is  believed  by  many  persons  that  all  of  our 
knowledge  takes  on  the  form  of  hypothesis,  and  Haeckel 
goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  knowledge  is  impossible  without 
hypothesis.  Certain  it  is  that  every  great  discovery  in 
science,  or  in  any  other  department  of  knowledge,  has  been 
rendered  possible,  and  has  been  accomplished,  by  the  use 
of  hypotheses. 

Any  good  hypothesis  must  be  capable  of  being  under- 
stood. Many  of  the  propositions  advanced  in  psychology, 
which  might  be  called  hypotheses,  violate  this  first  canon. 
As  in  the  study  of  mental  phenomena,  the  physiological 
processes  that  accompany  them  have  always  contributed 
to  furnish  the  first  intelligible  ideas,  so  a  purely  physio- 
logical hypothesis  of  feeling  will  contribute  most  to  its 
understanding. 

Any  good  hypothesis  must  be  framed  in  such  a  way 
that  it  will  not  be  contradicted  by  any  of  the  facts  al- 
ready known.    It  must  subsume  under  one  law  all  known 

27 


28  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

facts,  but  this  does  not  imply  that  every  fact  that  is 
known  must  be  taken  into  account  in  making  the  hypo- 
thesis. A  very  large  number  of  facts  may  obscure  the  true 
theory  that  is  found  to  unite  them  all.  It  is  better  to 
consider  a  smaller  number  of  facts  that  are  sigDificant, 
than  a  larger  number,  many  of  which  are  less  distinctively 
so.  WheD  by  a  proper  employment  of  the  significant  facts 
a  satisfactory  theory  has  been  advanced,  it  may  be  seen 
that  some  of  the  facts  already  known  are  susceptible  to 
a  different  interpretation  than  that  which  has  already 
been  put  upon  them.  Our  search,  then,  must  be  first  for 
the  significant  facts. 

As  it  seems  to  the  writer,  the  following  facts  are  espe- 
cially significant  for  feeling : 

1 — for  every  mental  process  there  is  a  corresponding 
physiological  change. 

The  evidence  for  the  truth  of  this  proposition  is  so 
nearly  complete  that  it  will  be  accepted  by  almost  every 
person  acquainted  with  the  present  state  of  psychological 
knowledge  without  any  question.  It  is  possible  that  per- 
sons persuaded  of  the  independence  of  the  mind  will  feel 
that,  while  in  many  cases  there  is  a  physiological  change 
accompanying  the  mental  process,  such  a  connection  is 
not  in  all  cases  demonstrable,  and  is  not  even  necessary. 
But  in  so  many  cases  we  are  able  to  demonstrate  a  corre- 
sponding physiological  change,  and  in  no  single  instance 
is  it  possible  to  demonstrate  that  there  is  a  mental  process 
without  the  physiological  accompaniment,  that  there  can 
be  little  objection  to  making  the  proposition  universal, 
and  assuming  it  to  be  true  in  all  cases. 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  the  proposition  as  stated, 
there  is  no  attempt  to  determine  what  is  the  nature  of  the 
connection  between  the  mental  process  and  the  physiolog- 
ical change  that  accompanies  it.  So  far  as  the  statement 
goes,  the  mental  process  may  be  the  cause  of  the  physiolog- 
ical change,  the  physiological  change  may  be  the  cause  of 


THE   DATA  29 

the  mental  process,  or  there  may  be  no  causal  connection 
between  them.  It  may  be  that  the  two  are  merely  parallel, 
without  there  being  any  other  kind  of  a  relation  between 
them  than  that  which  is  manifested  by  two  clocks  in 
different  places,  both  of  which  keep  accurate  time.  But 
it  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  assume  any  explanation  of 
the  cause  of  the  concomitance,  but  merely  to  assert  that 
there  is  a  correspondence.  Whenever  we  find  a  particular 
mental  process,  we  always  find  a  corresponding  physiolog- 
ical change,  and  if  we  observe  a  particular  physiological 
process,  we  may  be  sure  that  the  corresponding  mental 
process  is  going  on. 

We  can  observe  a  mental  process  that  occurs  in  our 
own  experience  directly,  but  its  interpretation  is  difficult, 
and  it  is  not  possible  always  to  picture  it  in  visual,  au- 
ditory, or  tactual  images.  Hence  we  shall  find  a  decided 
advantage  in  imaging  mental  processes  in  physiological 
terms  as  soon  as  we  have  recognized  what  is  the  nature 
of  the  physiological  process  that  is  their  invariable  ac- 
companiment. We  shall  find  the  same  advantage  in  pic- 
turing mental  processes  in  physiological  terms  that  we 
find  in  physics  in  representing  forces  by  lines,  or  measur- 
ing force  in  terms  of  the  movement  of  matter.  The  em- 
ployment of  lines  to  represent  forces  has  completely  trans- 
formed the  science  of  physics,  and  we  shall  expect  that 
the  same  kind  of  transformation  will  occur  in  psychology 
as  soon  as  the  physiological  interpretations  are  generally 
adopted.  The  great  difficulty  up  to  the  present  has 
been  to  discover  or  imagine  what  may  be  the  physiological 
concomitant  of  some  of  the  most  important  mental  proc- 
esses, such  as  the  feeling  and  the  will.  It  is  in  the  field 
of  these  processes  that  the  dualists  have  insisted  that  no 
concomitance  is  possible,  and  that  feeling,  especially  in 
its  more  complex  forms,  has  no  determinable  physiological 
accompaniment.  Even  in  the  most  complex  intellectual 
processes  it  has  been  believed  that  the  demonstration  of 


30  THE    FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

concomitance  was  impossible.  "How  do  the  cells  explode 
in  a  syllogism?"  was  the  poser  presented  by  one  of  our 
great  philosophers.  What  physiological  process  corre- 
sponds to  the  uplift  of  soul  that  is  experienced  in  looking 
upon  the  Sistine  Madonna?  Nevertheless,  no  one  has 
ever  experienced  an  uplift  of  soul  w^hen  the  physical  or- 
ganism was  missing,  and  even  when  it  was  out  of  repair 
the  uplift  was  startlingly  wanting. 

2 — The  physiological  change  that  accompanies  the  men- 
tal process  consists  of  the  transmission  of  a  nervous  cur- 
rent through  a  nervous  arc. 

It  is  true  that  other  physiological  processes,  such  as 
the  change  in  heart  beat,  greater  blood  tension,  visceral 
symptoms,  etc.,  occur  at  the  same  time,  and  many  persons, 
emphasizing  these  other  physiological  features,  are  ready 
to  insist  that  they  must  be  considered  a  necessary  part  of 
the  physiological  concomitant.  It  will  appear,  however, 
that  these  muscular  and  visceral  changes  are  extraneous 
indications  of  the  nervous  current,  rather  than  primary 
elements  in  the  physiological  change  which  directly  ac- 
companies the  mental  process. 

The  word  current  is  derived  from  a  word  that  means  to 
run,  and  is  strictly  applied  to  the  movement  of  a  stream 
in  which  there  is  a  direct  translation  in  space  of  the  par- 
ticles of  water.  When  we  apply  the  term  to  a  current  of 
electricity  or  to  a  nervous  current,  we  shall  need  to  extend 
its  meaning  and  to  omit  some  of  the  characters  that  are 
found  in  a  river  current,  while  retaining  the  essential 
features  that  are  common  to  all  currents.  By  the  term 
current,  as  we  apply  it  to  the  nervous  system,  we  mean 
the  changes  in  successive  molecules  that  constitute  the 
cells  and  fibres  of  the  nervous  arc.  There  is  no  thought 
of  the  translation  of  any  particle  of  matter  from  one  end 
of  the  arc  to  the  other.  But  we  do  recognize  that,  when 
from  any  cause  one  molecule  of  an  arc  undergoes  some 
kind  of  a  change,  the  molecule  next  to  it  changes  immedi- 


THE    DATA  31 

ately  afterward.  The  change  in  molecule  number  2  in- 
duces a  change  in  molecule  number  3,  until  finally  every 
molecule  in  the  length  of  the  nervous  arc  has  been  changed. 

The  nature  of  this  molecular  change  which  constitutes 
the  current  is  difficult  to  determine.  More  than  fifty 
years  ago,  Herbert  Spencer  demonstrated  that  it  must 
be  some  kind  of  a  molecular  change,  and  later  it  has  been 
shown  that  the  change  in  the  molecule  is  a  change  from 
a  colloidal  to  a  crystalloidal  condition  and  back  again, 
occurring  from  ten  to  twenty  times  in  a  second. 

We  readily  recognize  the  fact  that  the  molecules  which 
make  up  the  nervous  system  are  exceedingly  complex, 
consisting  of  many  atoms  very  loosely  bound  together. 
It  is  characteristic  of  complex  molecules  to  undergo 
changes  very  readily  of  a  great  many  kinds,  espe- 
cially if  the  molecules  contain  atoms  of  nitrogen.  The 
processes  of  chemical  analysis  are  too  crude  to  deal  very 
successfully  with  organic  molecules  of  such  a  high  de- 
gree of  complexity  as  those  found  in  the  nervous  system, 
so  that  we  have  recognized  only  a  few  substances  in  the 
composition  of  the  nervous  tissue,  but  in  those  few  sub- 
stances we  have  examples  of  perhaps  the  most  complex 
molecules  known.  Whether  protagon  is  a  simple  sub- 
stance, or  a  mixture  of  two  or  more,  investigations  into 
its  nature  have  shown  the  exceedingly  complex  nature  of 
the  molecules  which  compose  it.  One  of  the  best  determi- 
nations of  its  nature  assigns  to  its  molecular  structure 
five  hundred  and  nine  different  atoms.  A  structure  of 
such  a  high  degree  of  complexity  must  of  necessity  be 
very  unstable,  and  its  constituent  molecules  in  a  state 
of  constant  rearrangement  and  readjustment,  hence  we 
find  that  very  little  force  is  necessary  to  initiate  a  change 
that  is  transmitted  through  a  nervous  arc.  Forces  that 
are  too  small  to  be  measured  by  physical  means  may  be 
sufficient  to  affect  a  molecular  apparatus,  which  is  more 


32  THE    FEELINGS   OP    MAN 

sensitive  than  any  that  can  be  constructed  in  a  physical 
machine  shop. 

An  isomeric  change  is  one  that  consists  of  a  change  in 
the  arrangement  of  the  atoms  of  a  molecule,  without 
there  being  any  change  in  their  number  nor  in  the  iden- 
tity of  the  atoms  that  enter  into  the  molecular  composi- 
tion. It  may  be  necessary  to  modify  somewhat  our  con- 
ception of  an  isomeric  change  in  order  to  make  the  mole- 
cular change  that  occurs  in  the  nervous  current  come 
under  its  definition. 

It  seems  most  satisfactory  to  think  of  the  change  that 
occurs  in  the  initial  molecule  of  the  nervous  arc,  which  is 
first  affected  by  the  force  impressed  upon  it,  as  consist- 
ing of  the  jarring  loose  and  driving  off  from  the  molecular 
combination,  of  one  or  more  atoms.  These  loose  atoms, 
moving  with  atomic  speed,  strike  the  next  molecule,  which 
is  not  in  physical  contact  but  within  physiological  com- 
munication with  it,  and  drive  off  from  it  one  or  more  atoms 
which  pass  to  the  next.  In  this  way,  successive  molecules 
are  affected,  the  same  kind  of  a  change  occurring  in  each, 
thus  necessitating  a  new  arrangement  and  a  new  group- 
ing of  the  atoms  in  successive  molecules  until  the  final 
molecule  in  the  nervous  arc  is  reached.  The  final  dis- 
placement of  the  atoms  affects  the  molecules  of  the  organ 
with  which  the  nerve  is  connected.  If  the  nerve  is  one 
that  terminates  in  a  muscle,  the  final  atom  in  the  ner- 
vous arc  that  is  driven  off  affects  the  initial  molecules  of 
the  muscle,  and  muscular  contraction  follows.  If  the 
nerve  along  which  the  current  is  transmitted  is  an  affer- 
ent nerve,  the  molecular  change  may  be  continued  through- 
out different  brain  centers,  being  finally  carried  into  a 
current  connected  with  some  outgoing  nerve,  or  possibly 
having  its  force  exhausted  in  the  center  itself,  or  in  the 
neuroglia  between  the  cells. 

It  will  be  seen  that  in  this  explanation,  which  seems  to 
furnish  an  understandable  method  of  interpreting  the 


THE   DATA  33 

activity  of  the  nervous  current,  that  not  the  same  atoms 
constitute  the  molecule  after  the  change  occurs  which 
constituted  it  before.  The  atoms  may  be  of  the  same  kind, 
but  they  are  not  identical.  In  this  case,  the  change  that 
occurs  does  not  perfectly  satisfy  the  definition  of  an 
isomeric  change,  but  no  test  that  could  be  applied  would 
discover  any  difference  between  it  and  the  one  that  is 
here  described. 

But  we  are  not  limited  in  our  speculations  to  a  change 
in  molecules  depending  upon  the  transfer  of  atoms.  Re- 
cent discoveries  concerning  the  nature  of  the  atom  in- 
dicate that  there  is  an  enormous  amount  of  force  latent 
in  the  structure  of  the  atom  itself.  The  atom  is  com- 
posed of  many  corpuscles,  or  electrons,  from  one  thousand 
to  two  hundred  thousand  in  each  atom,  which  are  mov- 
ing with  velocities  comparable  to  the  speed  of  light,  whose 
equilibrium  is  easily  disturbed.  It  is  necessary  for  us  to 
consider  the  possibility  at  least,  of  this  change  in  suc- 
cessive molecules  that  constitutes  the  nervous  current, 
consisting  of  the  transfer  of  corpuscles  from  one  atom  to 
another,  or  from  one  molecule  to  another,  either  with  or 
without  the  transfer  of  atoms  described  above.  We  have 
here  a  source  of  power  previously  unrecognized,  that  en- 
ables us  to  answer  many  objections  concerning  the  origin 
of  the  force  that  is  liberated,  and  the  lack  of  quantitative 
equivalence  between  the  exciting  stimulus  and  muscular 
force  which  we  were  unable  to  answer  before. 

3 — Time  is  required  for  a  nervous  impulse  to  traverse 
a  nervous  arc.  It  will  be  seen  from  the  previous  exposi- 
tion that  the  present  proposition  follows  as  a  logical 
necessity.  If  one  molecule  must  undergo  a  change  before 
the  second  can  change,  the  two  are  not  simultaneous  but 
successive,  and  the  changes  in  the  two  terminal  molecules 
of  the  nervous  arc  will  be  separated  by  an  interval  equiva- 
lent to  the  sum  of  the  differences  between  the  changes  in 
the  entire  number  of  pairs  of  successive  molecules. 


34  THE    FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

But  we  are  not  limited  to  a  theoretical  demonstration 
of  the  fact  that  the  transmission  of  a  nervous  impulse  re- 
quires time.  The  measurement  of  transmission  time, 
physiological  time,  or  reaction  time  is  one  of  the  simplest 
of  laboratory  experiments,  and  one  of  the  most  impressive. 
This,  which  MuUer  fifty  years  ago  believed  would  be  for- 
ever impossible,  has  become  the  commonplace  of  element- 
ary physiology  today. 

The  instrument  by  means  of  which  reaction  time  is 
measured  is  called  a  chronoscope,  and  it  is  capable  of 
measuring  intervals  as  small  as  the  one  thousandth  part  of 
a  second.  As  the  demonstration  is  usually  made,  a  sub- 
ject is  placed  behind  a  screen  in  such  a  way  that  the  instru- 
ment is  not  seen  by  him.  One  of  his  hands  is  touched  with 
a  key  which  releases  the  pendulum  of  the  chronoscope. 
As  soon  as  the  subject  feels  the  touch,  he  presses  a  key 
with  the  other  hand  which  stops  an  indicator.  The  indi- 
cator is  carried  along  with  the  pendulum  until  the  key 
is  pressed,  so  that  the  distance  that  the  indicator  is  car- 
ried along  with  the  pendulum,  as  measured  on  a  scale 
over  which  it  passes,  registers  the  interval  between  the 
release  of  the  pendulum  and  the  stopping  of  the  indicator. 
But  the  release  of  the  pendulum  is  coincident  with  the 
touching  of  the  hand,  and  the  stopping  of  the  indicator 
is  coincident  with  the  pressing  of  the  key.  Hence  the 
time  that  is  measured  is  the  interval  between  the  starting 
of  a  nervous  impulse  in  the  nerve  endings  in  the  skin  and 
the  contraction  of  the  muscles  that  move  the  finger. 

This  total  reaction  time  is  capable  of  analysis  into 
several  parts;  First,  there  is  the  time  necessary  to  com- 
press the  skin  over  the  end  organs  of  touch;  Second,  the 
time  necessary  to  start  the  impulse  in  the  nerve  or  the 
end  organ ;  Third,  the  time  of  transmission  from  the  end 
organ  to  the  brain  center  for  touch ;  Fourth,  the  time  re- 
quired to  transmit  the  impulse  through  the  touch  center; 
Fifth,  the  time  required  to  transmit  the  impulse  from  the 


THE    DATA  35 

touch  center  to  the  motor  center ;  Sixth,  the  time  required 
for  the  impulse  to  traverse  the  motor  center;  Seventh,  the 
time  required  to  transmit  the  impulse  along  the  outgoing 
nerve  to  the  muscle;  Eighth,  the  time  required  to  transfer 
the  impulse  from  the  nerve  to  the  muscle;  Ninth,  the 
time  required  for  the  muscle  to  contract ;  Tenth,  the  time 
required  for  the  contraction  to  move  the  key,  or  the  time 
of  the  compression  of  the  tissues  between  the  muscle  and 
the  key. 

All  of  these  various  operations,  including  the  time  of 
the  transmission  of  the  electric  current  through  the  two 
circuits,  are  so  short  that  they  may  be  omitted  without 
very  much  error,  except  the  transmision  of  the  nervous 
current  along  the  nerve,  through  the  brain  centers,  and 
from  one  brain  center  to  another.  The  time  required  for 
all  the  others  is,  under  the  ordinary  conditions  of  meas- 
urement, within  the  limit  of  experimental  error,  and 
more  error  would  be  caused  by  trying  to  take  them  into 
account  than  by  omitting  them  from  consideration  alto- 
gether. The  usual  amount  of  reaction  time  thus  meas- 
ured ranges  around  the  time  of  187  thousandths  of  a  sec- 
ond. It  varies  with  many  circumstances.  It  varies  with 
different  individuals,  with  the  same  individual  in  differ- 
ent senses,  with  practice,  fatigue,  state  of  health,  inten- 
sity of  attention,  and  whether  the  attention  is  fixed  upon 
the  hand  that  receives  the  impression  or  the  hand  that 
responds  by  pressing  the  key.  But  no  matter  how  much 
variation  there  may  be,  there  is  always  a  measureable 
reaction  time,  and  it  is  never  reducible  much  below  100 
thousandths  of  a  second. 

4 — It  requires  from  twelve  to  twenty  times  as  long  to 
traverse  a  given  distance  in  the  brain  as  a  corresponding 
distance  in  a  nerve. 

This  fact  has  been  recognized  by  every  one  who  has 
ever  investigated  the  matter.  Helmholtz,  Wundt,  James, 
Ribot,  Ladd,  all  have  asserted  it  unqualifiedly.    In  a  nerve 


36  THE    FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

the  rate  of  transmission  is  constant  and  relatively  rapid. 
The  rate  of  transmission  does  not  vary  widely  from  100 
feet  in  a  second,  which,  while  it  is  very  slow  in  compari- 
son with  the  speed  of  light,  electricity,  or  even  sound,  is 
rapid  compared  with  the  rate  of  transmission  through  a 
brain  center.  In  a  brain  center  the  rate  is  slow  and  ex- 
ceedingly variable. 

Let  us  take  a  concrete  example,  from  an  experiment 
in  the  writer's  classes.  One  student  shows  a  reaction 
time  of  187  thousandths  of  a  second.  The  distance  that 
the  impulse  travels  from  the  point  on  the  hand  that  is 
touched  up  to  the  brain  is  about  three  feet.  The  distance 
from  the  brain  to  the  muscle  that  moves  the  finger  which 
presses  the  key  is  about  three  feet.  The  nervous  impulse, 
then,  must  travel  six  feet  in  the  nerve.  But  the  rate  of 
transmission  in  the  nerve  is  about  100  feet  in  a  second, 
so  in  order  to  travel  six  feet,  six  one-hundredths  of  a  sec- 
ond is  required.  The  remainder  of  the  time,  which  is  127 
thousandths  of  a  second,  is  the  time  required  to  traverse 
that  portion  of  the  brain  which  constitutes  a  part  of  the 
nervous  arc.  The  nervous  impulse  must  pass  through 
the  touch  center  on  the  right  hemisphere,  go  along  an  asso- 
ciation fibre  over  to  the  motor  center  for  the  hand  on  the 
left  side  of  the  brain,  and  go  through  the  motor  center. 
This  distance  in  the  brain  cannot  be  greater  than  six 
inches,  and  may  be  much  less  than  that.  Then  too,  the 
rate  of  transmission  between  the  two  centers  if  it  is  along 
an  association  fiber,  is  the  same  rate  as  the  transmission 
in  a  nerve,  which  still  further  diminishes  the  distance 
that  we  need  to  consider.  At  any  rate,  the  distance  of 
six  inches  is  the  greatest  possible  that  we  can  estimate 
it  to  be,  and  any  shorter  distance  renders  the  demonstra- 
tion so  much  the  more  impressive. 

Let  us  suppose  that  this  time,  127  thousandths  of  a 
second,  is  the  time  required  for  the  nervous  impulse  to 
travel  six  inches  in  the  brain.    To  go  one  foot  would  re- 


THE  DATA  37 

quire  twice  that  time,  or  254  thousandths  of  a  second; 
and  to  go  100  feet  would  require  100  times  as  long  or 
25.4  seconds.  So  we  see  that  in  this  case,  the  time  of 
transmission  is  more  than  twenty-five  times  as  great  as 
is  that  of  transmission  for  the  same  distance  in  a  nerve. 

How  shall  we  account  for  the  slow  rate  of  transmission  ? 
There  must  be  some  condition  in  the  brain  center  in  which 
it  differs  from  a  nerve,  that  makes  the  transmission  slow. 
Tlie  effect  of  this  condition  we  may  call  resistance,  with- 
out determining  what  may  be  its  nature  or  its  cause. 

5 — Our  fifth  significant  proposition  is  that  no  feeling 
in  ordinary  circumstances  accompanies  the  transmission 
of  an  impulse  along  a  nerve,  but  feeling  is  experienced 
only  when  a  nervous  impulse  passes  through  a  brain  cen- 
ter. 

The  evidence  of  this  is  found  in  the  phenomena  of  re- 
flex action.  A  reflex  act  is  the  direct  response  of  the 
protoplasm  to  a  stimulus  without  the  mediation  of  an 
intellectual  process.  There  is  no  feeling  accompanying 
the  pupillary  reflex,  nor  of  the  knee  jerk,  and  any  other 
reflex  is  of  the  same  nature.  It  is  true  that,  after  the  re- 
flex has  occurred,  a  recognition  of  it  may  establish  a  men- 
tal process  that  may  be  accompanied  by  a  feeling  of  sur- 
prise, or  some  other  kind  of  a  feeling,  but  the  feeling  comes 
as  a  result  of  the  transmission  of  a  nervous  impulse 
through  a  brain  center,  and  not  the  transmission  through 
the  nerve  that  has  been  traversed  in  giving  rise  to  the  re- 
flex activity. 

It  will  be  noted  above  that  I  have  said  under  ordinary 
circumstances.  In  pathological  cases,  such  as  neuritis, 
where  there  is  an  inflammation  of  the  nerve  tissue  itself, 
there  is  much  feeling,  much  pain,  accompanying  the  trans- 
mission along  a  nerve.  But  this  is  merely  another  fact 
that  corroborates  the  proposition  about  to  be  advanced, 
that  the  feeling  varies  as  the  resistance  encountered 
varies.    I  know  of  no  measurement  of  the  transmission 


38  THE    PEELINGS   OF    MAN 

rate  through  a  diseased  nerve,  as  in  cases  of  neuritis,  but 
we  should  expect  that  the  rate  would  be  slower  and  in- 
dicative of  a  greater  resistance  encountered. 

6 — Practice  diminishes  reaction  time.  The  amount  of 
this  diminution  is  easily  measured  in  any  particular  in- 
dividual, but  every  person  shows  improvement  as  the 
result  of  practice  in  reacting  to  a  chronoscope.  But  we 
need  no  chronoscope  to  demonstrate  the  fact  that  a  per- 
son by  practice  becomes  more  skillful  in  the  execution  of 
any  act,  and  the  amount  of  improvement  that  may  be 
made  in  performing  complicated  acts  and  series  of  acts  is 
a  constant  source  of  amazement.  The  fingers  of  a  skillful 
piano  player  indicate  the  exceeding  rapidity  with  which 
it  is  possible  to  execute  muscular  movements,  and  the  in- 
crease in  rapidity  with  which  nervous  impulses  may  be 
transmitted. 

It  will  readily  be  recognized  that  there  is  a  physio- 
logical limit  to  the  degree  of  improvement,  and  the 
amount  of  decrease  that  is  possible  by  practice,  but  in 
such  cases  as  that  just  mentioned,  it  seems  that  the  limit 
closely  approximates  the  rate  of  transmission  in  a  nerve 
itself.  When  such  an  approximation  has  been  made,  the 
action  closely  resembles  a  reflex,  and  partakes  of  the  re- 
flexive character  in  being  accompanied  by  diminished 
feeling. 

7 — This  brings  us  to  our  seventh  significant  fact,  that 
feeling  tends  to  disappear  from  an  habitual  experience. 

This  is  a  fact  of  every  day  experience  and  observation. 
The  process  that  is  accompanied  by  delightfully  pleasant 
feelings  at  first,  ultimately  begins  to  pall,  and  finally  be- 
comes, not  painful,  but  monotonous,  and  no  longer  cap- 
able of  furnishing  pleasure.  Then  we  feel  the  necessity 
of  making  a  change.  It  may  be  that  the  road  we  follow 
in  passing  to  our  school  or  daily  work  becomes  monoton- 
ous, and  we  desire  to  change  our  route.  The  arrange- 
ment of  the  furniture  in  our  room  no  longer  seems  to  us 


THE    DATA  39 

80  satisfactory  as  it  did  at  first,  and  a  new  arrangement 
is  desirable.  The  same  dishes  on  the  table  every  day 
lose  their  attractiveness.  We  occasionally  like  to  listen 
to  a  new  preacher,  or  a  new  teacher,  or  a  new  lecturer. 
Change  is  necessary  to  keep  away  monotony.  The  feel- 
ings we  experience  when  we  look  at  a  picture  upside  down, 
or  a  landscape  with  our  head  inverted,  or  a  scene  on  the 
ground  glass  of  a  camera,  are  very  different  from  those 
that  are  felt  when  seeing  them  in  the  ordinary  position. 

Even  acts  that  are  at  first  painful  may  lose  their  pain- 
ful character,  become  pleasurable,  and  end  by  becoming 
monotonous.  Such  seems  to  be  the  case  with  reading. 
The  process  of  learning  to  read  is  frequently  a  painful 
process,  not  only  to  a  little  child  but  to  a  grown-up. 
Any  one  who  recalls  his  experience  in  learning  a  new  lan- 
guage remembers  that  after  a  sufficient  amount  of  expe- 
rience it  ceased  to  be  painful,  became  pleasant,  and  ulti- 
mately the  reading  itself,  in  which  the  painful  or  pleas- 
ureable  character  inhered,  was  monotonous. 

8 — Reaction  time  in  children  is  greater  than  in  grown- 
ups, and  reaction  time  is  greater  in  uneducated  persons 
than  in  educated  ones. 

In  making  this  statement  in  a  general  way  it  must  be 
recognized  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  individual  varia- 
tion, so  that  the  truth  of  it  will  be  manifested  only  when 
we  take  the  average  of  large  numbers  of  each  class  of 
persons  indicated.  There  are  some  children  whose  reac- 
tion time  will  be  shorter  than  is  that  of  certain  grown- 
ups, and  there  are  individual  persons  who  are  unedu- 
cated who  will  manifest  a  shorter  reaction  time  than 
other  persons  who  are  educated.  But  there  can  be  no 
question  that  the  average  of  a  large  number  of  persons 
of  each  kind  will  show  that  the  rule  as  stated  above  is 
true. 

This  would  seem  to  imply,  also,  that  the  kind  of  expe- 
rience incident  to  growth,  in  the  case  of  children,  and  of 


4:0  THE    FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

education  in  the  case  of  educated  persons,  involves  the 
kind  of  practice  that  results  in  the  decrease  of  reaction 
time.  Growth  in  children,  and  a  better  organization  of 
the  brain  centers,  formation  of  association  fibers,  prac- 
tice and  experience,  the  continuous  traversing  of  the  brain 
tissue  by  impulses  in  all  directions,  naturally  leads  to 
such  modifications  of  the  brain  tissue  and  brain  centers 
as  to  facilitate  transmission  in  every  way.  The  same 
explanation  is  possible  in  the  case  of  educated  persons. 
The  processes  of  education  demand  much  mental  expe- 
rience, causing  portions  of  the  brain  to  be  traversed  by 
impulses  which,  without  them,  would  be  scarcely  touched. 
The  statement  will  hardly  be  denied,  and  there  will  be 
little  trouble  experienced  in  understanding  that  it  is  a 
natural  result  from  the  great  variety  of  neural  expe- 
riences incident  to  growth  and  to  education. 

9 — Little  children  and  uneducated  persons  are  more 
influenced  by  their  feelings  than  are  grown-ups  and  edu- 
cated persons. 

Little  children  are  admirable  examples  of  exaggerated 
feelings.  It  seems  as  if  the  life  of  a  little  child  is  largely 
of  that  nature.  Children  laugh  or  cry,  doing  one  about 
as  readily  as  the  other,  and  one  or  the  other  process 
seems  to  be  in  progress  a  large  part  of  the  time.  The 
child  is  scarcely  an  intellectual  being,  and  is  incapable 
of  doing  very  much  intellectual  work  of  any  kind.  He 
acts  in  accordance  with  his  feelings,  and  not  in  accord- 
ance with  any  judgment,  such  as  an  older  person  would 
inevitably  make.  In  the  ordinary  course  of  development, 
the  feelings  come  to  be  superseded  by  intellectual  proc- 
esses, and  no  longer  exercise  the  dominant  place  in  the 
mental  life  of  a  child  that  they  previously  did. 

The  same  kind  of  a  change  occurs  in  the  feelings  of  an 
educated  person.  It  is  among  the  uneducated,  uncultured 
persons,  that  as  a  rule  we  find  the  feelings  exercising  a 
predominant  influence.    The  actions  of  uneducated  per- 


THE   DATA  41 

sons  are  most  likely  to  be  determined  by  their  likes  and 
dislikes,  their  prejudices,  suspicions,  aversions,  appetites, 
desires.  They  are  extremely  susceptible  to  influences, 
which  in  a  higher  degree  of  culture  and  education  would 
produce  little  effect. 

In  consequence  of  these  facts,  which  scarcely  admit  of 
question,  we  are  led  to  look  with  suspicion  upon  the  ex- 
pression so  frequently  used  by  many  writers,  "The  culti- 
vation of  the  feelings.''  If  by  cultivation  of  the  feelings 
is  meant  such  a  course  of  treatment  as  will  intensify 
them,  the  phrase  is  altogether  misleading  and  wrong. 
The  feelings  are  most  intense  before  any  cultivation  is 
attempted.  The  only  rational  meaning  that  can  be  put 
into  the  phrase  is  to  mean  by  it  such  a  course  of  treat- 
ment as  will  result  in  a  decrease  in  intensity  of  feelings, 
and  a  substitution  of  some  other  element  in  mental  life 
as  a  determining  factor  in  the  production  of  action.  The 
phrase  seems  to  have  originated  in  a  thorough  misappre- 
hension of  the  nature  of  feeling.  It  is  possible  to  culti- 
vate the  intellectual  processes,  and  the  assumption  seems 
to  be  made  that  the  feelings  are  correlative  to  the  intel- 
lectual processes  or  powers,  and  are  to  be  cultivated  in 
the  same  way.  A  proper  understanding  of  the  nature  of 
feeling  will  show"  that  such  a  conception  is  thoroughly 
unjustified,  and  that  the  cultivation  of  the  feelings  is 
really  a  cultivation  of  the  intellectual  processes  of  per- 
ception and  judgment,  leading  to  a  proper  determination 
of  the  things  that  it  is  desirable  to  experience  feeling 
from,  and  the  kind  of  feelings  that  ought  to  be  expe- 
rienced in  any  given  situation. 

10 — Pathological  conditions  may  modify  reaction  time. 
It  is  noticeable  that  idiots  have,  in  general,  a  very  slow 
reaction  time.  In  cases  of  degeneration,  when  a  person 
sinks  into  a  condition  bordering  upon  idiocy,  the  reaction 
time  becomes  very  much  lengthened.  The  contrary  effect 
is  observed  in  those  pathological  cases  that  develop  into 


42  THE   PEELINGS   OP    MAN 

acute  mania.  One  of  the  symptoms  of  oncoming  maniacal 
conditions  is  frequently  a  shortened  reaction  time. 

Even  when  the  pathological  conditions  are  not  such  as 
to  be  particularly  noticeable,  we  can  recognize  that  the 
reaction  time  will  be  modified  in  accordance  with  them. 
When  a  person  feels  stupid,  or  depressed,  or  fatigued, 
the  reaction  time  is  likely  to  be  much  lengthened.  On 
the  other  hand,  when  there  is  noticed  an  excessively  ner- 
vous condition,  the  reaction  time  is  likely  to  be  shortened. 

11 — Pathological  conditions  are  associated  with  a 
deviation  from  a  normal  condition  of  feeling. 

Idiots  are  notoriously  devoid  of  feeling.  Not  only  are 
they  feebly  sensitive  to  physical  conditions  that  in  others 
are  productive  of  pain,  but  their  perception  of  touch,  tem- 
perature, vision,  and  hearing  are  likely  to  be  below  the 
normal.  In  the  cases  of  maniacs,  we  find  that  there  is  a 
heightened  intensity  of  feeling.  In  many  cases,  one  of 
the  first  symptoms  of  oncoming  insanity  is  an  increase  in 
the  disposition  to  become  angry,  or  to  experience  an  in- 
tensified feeling,  usually  of  a  painful  character,  although 
in  the  early  stages,  the  increase  in  feeling  may  be  of  a 
pleasurable  nature. 

It  is  a  matter  of  common  observation  that  the  state  of 
bodily  health  at  any  time  modifies  very  much  the  nature 
and  extent  of  our  feelings.  When  we  are  fatigued,  or 
hungry,  or  suffering  from  some  other  kind  of  physical 
pain,  the  things  that  would  under  ordinary  conditions 
cause  no  apprehension  or  annoyance,  will  occasion  serious 
worry. 

12 — No  feeling  is  ever  experienced  that  is  not  accom- 
panied by  some  kind  of  intellectual  process. 

In  the  case  of  sensation,  the  sensation  makes  us  ac- 
quainted with  some  quality  of  an  object,  and  such  an  in- 
tellectual process  may  be  accompanied  by  some  kind  of 
feeling.  But  the  sensation  must  of  necessity  be  discrimi- 
nated from  the  feeling  that  accompanies  it.    So  no  feeling 


THE   DATA  43 

of  exaltation  nor  rapture  can  ever  be  experienced  without 
a  perception  of  some  kind  of  a  situation  accompanying 
it,  and  to  which  it  is  appropriate.  The  only  way  that  we 
can  experience  any  kind  of  a  feeling,  such  as  pride,  is  to 
contemplate  or  image  the  condition  in  which  we  take 
pride.  We  experience  the  feeling  of  anger  only  in  con- 
templating some  situation,  either  actual  or  imaginary, 
that  is  consonant  with  the  feeling.  No  feeling  is  ever 
experienced  alone.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  pure 
feeling.  It  may  be  that  the  feeling  element  and  the  in- 
tellectual element  vary  widely  in  the  proportion  of  each, 
but  the  intellectual  element  can  never  completely  disap- 
pear from  any  experience  in  which  feeling  is  aroused. 

13 — The  intellectual  content  of  the  mental  process  de- 
termines the  kind  of  feeling. 

This  is  what  Hoffding  means  when  he  says  that  the  dif- 
ferences between  feelings  we  must  explain  by  means  of 
the  cognitive  elements  that  are  combined  with  them. 
{Psychology,  p.  222.)  It  is  true  that  the  same  situation 
may  appeal  to  one  person  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  accom- 
panied by  one  kind  of  feeling,  while  in  another  person  the 
same  incident  may  arouse  a  totally  different  kind  of  feel- 
ing. But  we  must  understand  that  it  is  the  perception 
of  the  entire  situation  which  constitutes  the  intellectual 
process.  The  same  occurrence  or  event  gives  rise  to  the 
perception  of  a  whole  series  of  relations  in  one  person 
that  are  unobserved  by  another.  This  differe^-ce  in  what 
is  perceived  by  the  two  persons  arises  in  consequence  of 
the  different  experiences,  different  amounts  and  kinds  of 
knowledge  of  other  things  that  bear  a  relation  to  it,  and 
to  the  difference  in  the  relation  it  holds  to  one's  own  life. 
The  intellectual  process  that  accompanies  and  determines 
the  specific  character  of  feeling  consists  of  the  perception 
of  the  entire  series  of  circumstances.  It  is  not  merely 
that  of  the  single  event,  but  includes  the  remembered 
previous  experience  of  the  person. 


44  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

These,  then,  are  the  things  that  appear  to  be  significant 
and  which  need  to  fit  into  any  theory  of  feeling  that  may 
be  made.  It  is  not  meant  that  no  other  facts  of  feeling 
are  known,  but  that  we  have  here  as  wide  a  range  of  facts 
of  diverse  kinds  as  is  necessary  to  enable  us  to  form  a 
comprehensive  theory  of  feeling.  When  we  have  our 
theory  advanced,  we  may  test  it  by  means  of  the  other 
facts  that  are  known.  If  it  is  not  comprehensive  enough 
to  embrace  all  the  other  facts,  our  theory  must  be  dis- 
carded or  else  modified  into  conformity  with  them.  It 
may  be  that  some  of  the  facts  already  known,  and  which 
seem  at  first  contradictory  to  our  theory,  are  susceptible 
of  such  modification  and  interpretation  that  they  not  only 
fit  into  the  theory  itself,  but  furnish  the  strongest  kind 
of  an  independent  verification  of  it.  At  least,  it  is  not 
in  a  multiplication  of  particulars  that  a  satisfactory 
theory  will  be  suggested.  If  we  can  find  a  theory  that  will 
fit  all  the  facts  here  enumerated,  we  shall  have  probably 
a  satisfactory  theory  for  all  observed  facts,  and  one  that 
will  prove  helpful  in  directing  our  further  study  of  this 
most  important  process. 


Chapter  IV. 
THE   HYPOTHESIS.        ^ 

The  nature  of  the  hypothesis  that  will  accord  with  all 
the  facts  recognized  as  significant,  must  be  already  evi- 
dent. When  we  bring  into  juxtaposition  two  such  facts 
as  that  the  rate  of  transmission  of  a  nervous  impulse  is 
from  twelve  to  twenty  times  as  great  through  a  nerve  as 
through  a  brain  center  and  that  feeling  is  experienced 
only  when  an  impulse  is  passing  through  a  brain  center, 
we  are  led  to  inquire  if  the  slowness  of  the  rate  of  trans- 
mission is  not  in  some  way  associated  with  the  establish- 
ment of  the  feeling.  When  we  bring  into  juxtaposition 
two  other  facts,  that  practice  decreases  reaction  time  and 
that  feeling  tends  to  disappear  from  an  habitual  act,  we 
shall  have  our  previous  supposition  confirmed.  In  all  of 
our  significant  data,  we  shall  be  able  to  see  that  there  is 
some  kind  of  a  relation  between  the  slowness  of  trans- 
mission and  the  intensity  of  feeling.  We  have  called  that 
condition  which  contributes  to  the  retarding  of  a  nervous 
impulse,  and  the  consequent  lengthening  of  reaction  time, 
resistance.  We  shall  be  ready  then,  at  once  to  state  as 
a  tentative  working  hypothesis,  that  feeling  is  the  con- 
comitant of  the  resistance  which  a  nervous  impulse  en- 
counters in  passing  through  a  nervous  arc. 
(  The  evidence  that  there  is  resistance  to  the  transmis- 
sion of  a  nervous  impulse  is  found  principally  in  the  fact 
of  the  slow  rate  of  reaction  time,  and  the  more  rapid  rate 
of  transmission  in  a  nerve  fiber  than  in  a  brain  center. 
There  will  be  little  question  in  the  mind  of  any  one  who 
recognizes  that  a  nervous  current  is  transmitted,  that 
this  current  meets  with  resistance.     The  resistance  has 

45 


46  THE   FEELINGS   OP    MAN 

been  recognized  by  almost  every  physiologist  and  psy- 
chologist who  has  given  thought  to  the  matter,  and  refer- 
ence has  already  been  made  to  such  recognition.  Hoff- 
ding,  quoting  Richet  says,  (Psychology,  p.  223)  that 
^Tain  without  memory  and  without  radiation  would  be 
no  pain  at  all.  It  is  thus  not  of  so  simple  nature  as  sen- 
sation. It  probably  presupposes  the  subduing  of  a  great 
resistance  in  the  central  nerve  organs."  And  again, 
(p.  37)  "The  ganglion  itself  exercises  an  inhibitory  in- 
fluence upon  the  impulse,  for  as  can  be  shown  by  experi- 
ment, the  course  of  the  nervous  process  is  much  slower  in 
the  brain  and  spinal  cord  than  in  the  peripheral  nerves." 
In  Ziehen's  Physiological  Psychology  we  find  the  state- 
ment that  "The  sensation  must  have  a  certain  inten- 
sity in  order  to  overcome  the  resistance  to  conduc- 
tion in  the  intercentral  paths  and  to  produce  motor  ef- 
fects." So  Ladd  {Outlines,  p.  174)  remarks  that  "The 
nervous  substance  of  the  central  organs  offers  a  greater 
resistance  to  the  progress  of  a  nerve  commotion  than  is 
offered  by  the  nerver."  Titchener,  {Outline,  p.  96)  says 
"We  know  that  nervous  substance  resists  the  incoming 
of  stimulation.  The  resistance  which  it  offers  can  be 
overcome  only  by  stimuli  of  a  certain  strength."  So 
Ribot,  {Emotions,  p.  84)  says  "When  an  excitation  in- 
creases as  we  have  seen,  the  number  of  muscular  groups 
set  into  motion,  resistance  to  transmission  increases  in 
the  same  proportion."  And  again,  (p.  84)  "The  sensation 
of  pain  presupposes  a  reflex  movement  and  an  arrest  of 
nervous  conduction  in  the  grey  substance  of  the  spinal 
marrow.  It  is  this  process  of  inhibition  in  varying  de- 
grees that  is  felt  by  the  consciousness  as  pain." 

It  is  necessary  for  us  to  have  a  clear  understanding 
of  what  w^e  shall  mean  by  resistance,  for  by  it  we  shall 
expect  to  explain  and  make  clear  many  divergent,  ob- 
scure, and  apparently  contradictory  phenomena.  We  are 
using  the  word  resistance  in  a  slightly  modified  sense 


THE    HYPOTHESIS  47 

from  that  in  which  it  is  employed  in  describing  the  phe- 
nomena of  an  electric  current.  As  the  term  is  used  in 
electricity,  it  means  the  property  of  a  conductor  that 
tends  to  destroy  or  diminish  the  amount  of  current  that 
passes  through  it.  It  is  always  considered  as  a  property 
of  the  conductor,  and  its  amount  Is  measured  in  ohms. 
The  effect  of  the  resistance  placed  in  a  circuit  is  to  dimin- 
ish the  amount  of  electricity  that  is  passing  through  the 
circuit,  but  there  is  a  cumulative  effect  manifested  in 
the  heating  of  the  wire  that  furnishes  the  resistance. 
With  a  current  of  a  given  electro-motive  force,  the  amount 
of  electricity  that  passes  through  the  wire  will  vary  in- 
versely as  the  resistance.  With  a  given  quantity  of  elec- 
tricity passing  through  the  wire,  the  heating  effect  will 
vary  directly  as  the  resistance. 

When  we  use  the  term  resistance  in  discussing  the 
nervous  current,  we  shall  need  to  modify  our  conception 
of  it  somewhat.  We  shall  consider  resistance  as  not 
merely  a  property  of  the  conducting  nervous  arc,  but  it 
will  be  measured  by  the  amount  of  current  which  is  de- 
stroyed. It  will  be  seen  that  this  definition  is  intended 
to  cover  two  elements;  first,  the  nature  of  the  nervous 
arc,  and  second,  the  strength  of  the  current.  Resistance, 
then,  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  proposed  to  use  the  term, 
depends  upon  two  factors,  both  variables,  and  varying 
independently  of  each  other.  One  is  the  nature  of  the 
nervous  arc,  and  the  other  is  the  strength  of  the  current. 

It  will  be  seen  that  when  we  use  the  term  resistance  to 
mean  the  resultant  of  the  two  elements  described,  we  may 
consider  the  concomitants  of  both  the  two  as  more  nearly 
corresponding  to  the  heating  effect  produced  by  the  cur- 
rent of  electricity.  As  the  heating  effect  produced  by  the 
electric  current  depends  not  only  upon  the  number  of 
ohms  resistance  in  the  circuit,  but  also  upon  the  electro- 
motive force  and  the  amount  of  the  current,  so  the  re- 
sistance in  the  nervous  arc  will  depend  upon  the  strength 


48  THE    FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

of  the  current,  as  well  as  upon  the  nature  of  the  nervous 
arc. 

The  effect  of  the  resistance  is  to  diminish  the  quantity 
of  energy  that  succeeds  in  passing  through  the  nervous 
arc.  If  the  nervous  energy  is  increased,  the  quantity  of 
energy  that  succeeds  in  overcoming  the  resistance  offered 
by  the  nervous  arc  is  greater,  but  a  larger  quantity  is 
stopped  out  by  the  resistance  in  the  arc  itself.  If  we  con- 
sider that  quantity  of  nervous  energy  that  is  stopped  out 
as  the  concomitant  of  feeling,  we  shall  have  a  clear  un- 
derstanding of  what  is  meant  by  resistance.  The  resist- 
ance varies  as  the  quantity  of  nervous  energy  that  is 
stopped  out  or  destroyed  by  the  arc. 

We  may  state  some  of  the  laws  of  resistance  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner.  With  a  current  of  a  given  strength,  re- 
sistance will  vary  with  the  nervous  arc  through  which  it 
is  transmitted.  The  resisting  power  of  any  particular 
nervous  arc  will  be  modified  by  various  circumstances. 
In  the  first  place,  repeated  transmission  of  an  impulse 
through  the  arc  will  diminish  its  resisting  power.  This  is 
sometimes  called  the  law  of  neural  habit,  and  is  one  of 
the  best  known  laws  of  nervous  action.  Its  explanation 
is  to  be  sought  in  the  manner  in  which  the  molecular 
structure  is  restored  after  its  equilibrium  has  been  de- 
stroyed by  the  removal  of  atoms  in  the  transmission  of 
an  impulse.  We  have  here  an  opportunity  to  explain  the 
way  in  which  a  habit  is  formed,  and  an  insight  into  its 
neurological  basis. 

But  it  is  not  merely  the  number  of  repetitions  of  an 
impulse  through  a  nervous  arc  that  decreases  its  resist- 
ance. The  resistance  in  the  arc  will  be  modified  more 
rapidly  by  a  strong  nervous  impulse  than  it  will  by  a 
weak  one.  A  smaller  number  of  repetitions  of  a  strong 
nervous  current  will  modify  the  resistance  of  the  arc  as 
much  as  a  larger  number  of  weak  impulses. 

The  resisting  power  of  a  nervous  arc  will  be  modified 


THE    HYPOTHESIS  49 

not  only  by  practice  or  habit,  but  by  the  blood  supply  at 
any  particular  time  and  the  general  pathological  condi- 
tions of  the  nerve  tissues.  In  cases  of  inflammation  of 
the  nerve  tissue,  or  when  it  is  acted  upon  by  different 
kinds  of  drugs,  such  as  chloroform,  the  resisting  power 
of  any  given  nervous  arc  to  a  current  of  given  strength 
may  be  modified. 

A  third  method  by  which  the  resisting  power  of  any 
given  nervous  arc  may  be  modified  is  through  the  process 
of  attention,  whose  discussion  must  be  reserved  for  a  sub- 
sequent chapter. 

A  second  law  of  resistance  may  be  stated  as  follows : — 
In  a  given  nervous  arc,  the  amount  of  resistance  encount- 
ered will  vary  directly  with  the  strength  of  the  current. 
In  the  statement  of  this  law,  it  is  not  intended  to  give  an 
exact  mathematical  expression  of  the  relation  between 
resistance  encountered  and  current  strength.  It  may  be 
that  the  resistance  will  vary  with  the  square,  or  some 
other  function  of  the  current  strength.  We  have  no 
means  as  yet  of  measuring  the  strength  of  a  nervous  cur- 
rent, nor  has  any  unit  been  established  for  it;  conse- 
quently, we  have  no  means  of  measuring  the  amount  of 
resistance  offered  by  a  nervous  arc  and  no  unit  for  it. 
It  is,  therefore,  impossible  to  assert  with  any  degree  of 
confidence,  what  is  the  function  that  expresses  the  ratio 
of  variation.  But  the  problem  of  measuring  the  strength 
of  the  current  and  the  amount  of  resistance  is  not  at  all 
hopeless.  Neither  have  we  any  means  of  measuring  the 
Intensity  of  feeling,  but  we  know  that  feelings  vary  in 
intensity.  The  problem  of  the  future  is  to  establish  a 
unit  for  different  psychological  processes,  and  to  devise 
means  of  measuring  their  intensity. 

As  a  consequence  of  our  second  law,  we  understand 
that  if  a  current  is  feeble  and  weak,  little  resistance  will 
be  encountered  in  passing  through  a  nervous  arc,  and 
there  will  be  little  modification  of  the  arc  by  it.    If  a 


50  THE    FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

current  is  strong,  great  resistance  will  be  encountered, 
and  much  modification  of  the  arc  will  result. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  nervous  currents  do  vary 
widely  in  strength.  The  strength  of  the  current  at  any 
time  is  dependent,  in  some  degree  at  least,  upon  the 
amount  of  nervous  tissue  that  is  oxidized.  Blood  supply, 
plenty  of  food,  pure  air,  sufiicient  exercise  to  quicken  the 
heart  beat  and  send  the  blood  rapidly  to  the  brain,  are 
all  conditions  that  tend  to  increase  the  amount  of  tissue 
oxidized,  and  the  amount  of  energy  liberated.  Narcotic 
drugs  tend  to  diminish  the  amount  of  oxidation  of  tissue, 
to  weaken  the  strength  of  the  current,  to  diminish  resist- 
ance and  to  deaden  feeling. 

We  can  readily  recognize  the  fact,  also,  that  a  peri- 
pherally initiated  impulse,  which  starts  in  some  end 
organ  of  sense  is  in  general  stronger  than  a  centrally 
initiated  one.  The  force  that  originates  the  peripherally 
initiated  impulse  is  generally  greater  than  the  force  that 
originates  a  centrally  initiated  impulse.  The  external 
forces  that  act  upon  sense  organs  are  suflQciently  large,  in 
many  cases  at  least,  to  be  measurable  by  physical  means, 
while  whatever  the  force  may  be  that  originates  the  cen- 
trally initiated  impulse,  it  is  scarcely  likely  to  be  meas- 
urable by  any  means  that  we  now  employ  in  our  labora- 
tories. It  is  even  possible  to  measure  the  pressure  of 
light,  which  was  believed  for  so  many  years  to  be  abso- 
lutely lacking,  but  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  measure  the 
force  that  can  decompose  a  molecule  of  protagon  and 
deprive  it  of  a  small  number  of  its  atoms. 

It  is  very  possible,  too,  that  the  end  organs  of  senses 
are  devices  for  multiplying  the  effects  of  the  sensible 
forces,  which  is  not  likely  to  be  true  of  the  central  cerebral 
organs.  Both  of  these  considerations  enable  us  to  under- 
stand why  the  peripherally  initiated  impulses  are  stronger 
than  centrally  initiated  ones. 

Concerning  the  nature  of  the  resistance,  we  are  able  to 


THE   HYPOTHESIS  51 

say  not  much  that  is  definite.  We  know  little  about  it, 
but  we  know  perhaps  still  less  about  the  nature  of  the 
resistance  in  the  case  of  an  electric  current  Why  should 
an  iron  wire  offer  greater  resistance  to  the  passage  of  an 
electric  current  than  does  a  copper  wire  of  the  same  length 
and  diameter?  What  is  the  property  of  iron  or  copper 
that  makes  it  offer  resistance?  To  such  questions  we  can 
give  no  answer  at  all,  and  yet  we  are  enabled  to  measure 
this  resistance  in  the  different  wires  with  great  accuracy. 

So  there  can  be  no  question  concerning  the  fact  that 
there  is  resistance  encountered  in  a  nervous  arc.  Con- 
cerning its  nature,  we  are  almost  as  much  in  the  dark 
as  we  are  in  the  case  of  the  electric  current.  Although 
we  shall  use  again  and  again  the  analogy  of  the  electric 
current,  we  must  carefully  discriminate  the  two,  for  an 
electric  current  is  not  a  nervous  current,  nor  is  a  nervous 
current  one  of  electricity.  That  idea  was  abandoned  al- 
most as  soon  as  it  was  suggested,  fifty  years  ago. 

If  we  adopt  the  view  of  the  nature  of  a  nervous  current 
that  was  suggested  in  Chapter  III,  we  may  have  a  means 
of  understanding  something  about  the  nature  of  the  re- 
sistance. Let  us  assume  that  the  nervous  current  con- 
sists of  a  change  in  successive  molecules  and  that  this 
change  involves  the  transmission  of  one  or  more  atoms 
from  one  molecule  to  the  next.  The  strength  of  the  cur- 
rent will  be  measured  by  the  number  of  atoms  that  are 
transferred,  and  the  probability,  judging  from  the  struc- 
ture of  the  molecule,  is  that  the  same  number  will  be 
transferred  between  every  pair  of  molecules.  This  will 
show  us  why  it  is  that  in  case  of  a  peripherally  initiated 
impulse,  the  stronger  stimulus  will  generate  the  greater 
current  and  correspond  to  a  sensation  of  greater  inten- 
sity. The  atoms  are  not  likely  to  be  released  with  equal 
facility,  but  the  first  one  to  go  will  be  the  one  that  is  held 
least  strongly  in  the  combination.  The  second  one  will 
demand  a  greater  force  to  jar  it  loose,  and  the  third  will 


52  THE   PEELINGS   OF   MAN 

take  more  than  the  second.  Hence  it  is  that  equal  in- 
crements of  stimulus  will  not  correspond  to  equal  incre- 
ments in  current  strength,  and  we  have  an  explanation 
in  physiological  terms,  of  Weber's  law.  James  has  al- 
ready foreseen  this  explanation  when  he  says  {Psychol- 
ogy ^  vol.  I,  p.  548)  "If  our  feelings  resulted  from  a  condi- 
tion of  the  nervous  molecules  which  it  grew  ever  more 
difficult  for  the  stimulus  to  increase,  our  feelings  would 
grow  at  a  slower  rate  than  the  stimulus  itself.  An  ever 
larger  part  of  the  latter's  work  would  go  to  overcoming 
the  resistances,  and  an  ever  smaller  part  to  the  realiza- 
tion of  the  feeling-bringing  state.  Weber's  law  would 
thus  be  a  sort  of  law  of  friction  in  the  neural  machine." 
In  this  quotation  the  word  feeling  is  used  in  a  different 
sense  from  that  which  is  employed  in  this  book,  but  the 
principle  of  resistance  is  well  expressed. 

There  will  be  little  difficulty  in  understanding  that  the 
amount  of  resistance  encountered  in  one  molecule  or  in 
one  cell  will  be  very  slight  compared  with  that  which  is 
encountered  when  an  atom  is  compelled  to  pass  from  a 
molecule  of  one  cell  to  a  molecule  of  another  cell.  While 
it  is  true  that  some  kind  of  force  must  be  expended  in 
doing  the  internal  work  of  a  molecule,  rearranging  its 
atoms  to  produce  the  change  from  a  colloidal  to  a  crystal- 
loidal  state,  the  change  is  slight  compared  with  that  re- 
quired to  transmit  an  atom  from  one  cell  to  another 
through  the  intervening  space. 

In  order  that  there  may  be  a  current,  the  nervous  im- 
pulse must  be  prevented  from  leaving  the  conductor  and 
spreading  out  indiscriminately  over  the  brain  tissue. 
The  analogy  of  the  electric  current  will  help  us  here.  The 
conductor  of  electricity  must  be  insulated  to  prevent  the 
current  from  leaving  it,  and  the  conductor  of  a  nervous 
current  must  also  be  insulated.  In  the  case  of  a  nerve, 
the  medullary  sheath  probably  serves  as  the  insulator. 
Evidence  of  this  proposition  may  be  found  in  the  fact  that 


THE    HYPOTHESIS  53 

until  the  nerves  become  medullated  they  are  non-func- 
tional, and  medullation  is  considered  a  symptom  of  func- 
tional capacity.  Also  we  must  recall  that  the  medullary 
sheath  disappears  at  the  extremity  of  the  nerve  fiber, 
which  is  the  place  at  which  the  current  leaves  the  fiber 
to  pass  its  influence  on  into  the  organ  with  which  it  is 
connected.  The  medullary  sheath  is  also  absent  from  the 
origin  of  the  nerve  fiber,  but  at  this  place  the  cell  from 
which  it  springs  is  surrounded  with  neuroglia.  While 
some  writers  have  supposed  that  the  function  of  the  medul- 
lary sheath  is  largely  nutritive,  the  evidence  seems  to  be 
strong  that  insulation  is  an  important  part  of  it. 

The  molecules  that  constitute  the  axis  cylinder  of  the 
nerve  fiber  are  in  physiological  contact  with  each  other. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  that  they  are  in  physical 
contact,  but  their  distances  from  each  other  are  molecular 
in  extent  and  an  atom  flying  off  from  one  can  easily  pass 
directly  to  another.  In  this  structure  we  have  an  expla- 
nation of  the  comparatively  rapid  rate  of  transmission 
of  the  impulse  in  a  nerve. 

But  the  cells  of  the  brain,  the  neurons,  are  not  in 
physiological  contact  with  each  other.  They  are  em- 
bedded in  neuroglia,  which  furnishes  them  a  support, 
and  a  kind  of  packing  material,  isolating  one  cell  from 
another,  and  serving  as  an  insulator.  It  may  be  that  the 
neuroglia  has  also. a  nutritive,  as  well  as  other  functions, 
but  it  seems  extremely  probable  that  the  insulating  func- 
tion is  the  most  important  that  it  has.  The  tips  of  the 
dendrites  and  the  terminal  arborizations  of  the  dendrites 
and  the  axons  in  the  brain  in  no  case  come  into  direct 
physical  contact  with  each  other,  and  are  separated  by 
such  distances  that  they  are,  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, not  even  in  physiological  contact.  The  trans- 
mission of  an  impulse  through  a  brain  center  from  one 
neuron  to  another  is  mediated  by  the  neuroglia,  through 
a  small  layer  of  which,  sometimes  called  the  synaptic 


54  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

membrane,  it  must  go  when  an  impulse  passes  from  one 
neuron  to  another.  The  flying  atoms  or  corpuscles  must 
pass  through  it,  and  it  seems  as  if  in  this  fact  we  have  an 
explanation  of  the  resistance  that  is  encountered,  and  the 
reason  why  the  rate  of  transmission  is  slower  in  the  brain 
center  than  it  is  in  the  axis  cylinder  of  the  nerve  fiber. 

If  this  hypothesis  is  capable  of  demonstration,  we  have 
grounds  for  another  speculation  which  is  closely  accordant 
with  the  latest  and  best  observations  that  have  been  made. 
That  is,  that  the  concomitant  of  the  feeling  process,  as 
well  as  of  any  other  mental  process,  is  the  change  that 
occurs  at  the  tips  of  the  dendrites,  or  just  at  the  place, 
called  the  synapse,  where  the  transfer  of  an  impulse  from 
one  cell  to  another  occurs,  rather  than  as  is  ordinarily 
supposed,  in  the  cell  body  itself.  Thus  Morat,  {Physiol- 
ogy of  the  Nervous  System^  p.  26)  says:  "It  seems  in- 
deed that  it  is  here  [at  the  point  of  junction  of  the  neu- 
rons] that  the  principal  transformations  which  the  im- 
pulse undergoes  in  passing  through  the  gray  matter,  take 
place.  Fundamentally,  what  is  described  as  a  center  is 
merely  a  locality  where  the  neurons  are  able  to  organize 
themselves  into  a  definite  system  (partial)  in  order  to 
perform  a  definite  function."  It  is  probable  that  the  cell 
body  is  the  location  rather  of  the  nutritive  function  of  the 
cell,  and  of  the  katabolic  processes  of  oxidation  by  which 
the  nervous  energy  is  liberated,  than  of  the  process  which 
is  the  concomitant  of  the  mental  function.  The  expres- 
sion which  is  a  favorite  one  with  some  writers,  that  in 
the  cell  impressions  are  stored,  is  one  whose  use  is  much 
to  be  regretted. 

We  have  then,  in  the  neuron,  two  distinct  functions, 
whose  concomitants  it  is  necessary  to  differentiate  clearly. 
We  shall  have  occasion  to  refer  to  the  two  differing  func- 
tions in  discussing  the  process  of  attention  and  the 
esthetic  feeling.  For  psychology,  the  one  is  as  important 
as  the  other,  but  they  manifest  themselves  in  different 


THE   HYPOTHESIS  55 

ways.  Not  only  is  the  function  of  the  cell  body  a  nutri- 
tive one,  but  in  it  is  located  also  that  process  which  ren- 
ders the  nutritive  function  necessary,  and  without  which 
it  would  be  useless.  The  katabolic  processes  go  on  in  the 
cell  at  an  equal  rate  with  the  anabolic.  But  the  katabolic 
processes  liberate  energy  which  is  the  property  upon 
which  the  strength  of  the  nervous  current  depends.  But 
all  processes  properly  mental  have  their  concomitants  in 
the  process  involved  in  the  transfer  of  the  impulse  from 
one  cell  to  the  other,  which  transfer  occurs  at  the  terminal 
arborizations  of  the  axons  and  dendrites.  The  discrimina- 
tion of  these  two  functions  of  the  neuron  will  help  us  to 
understand  and  to  explain  many  things  that  otherwise 
would  be  mystifying  or  appear  to  be  contradictory  to  our 
hypothesis. 

It  is  our  purpose  next  to  inquire  what  reason  we  have 
for  identifying  this  resistance  with  the  concomitant  of 
feeling.  It  will  be  difficult  for  us  to  adhere  to  our  method 
of  describing  feeling  and  resistance  as  concomitants,  for 
the  temptation  is  great  to  consider  feeling  as  a  function 
of  resistance,  and  caused  by  it.  We  speak  of  heat  as  the 
result  of  the  resistance  in  the  case  of  the  electric  current, 
and  no  harm  is  done.  But  in  psychology,  it  is  necessary 
to  limit  our  statement  of  the  relation  merely  to  that  of 
concomitance.  If  we  could  employ  the  word  function 
in  the  mathematical  sense,  without  danger  of  being  mis- 
understood, we  should  have  an  accurate  statement  of  the 
case  without  deviating  from  our  doctrine  of  parallelism 
or  correspondence. 

The  evidence  that  feeling  is  the  concomitant  of  resist- 
ance depends  largely  upon  the  facts  of  concomitant  varia- 
tion. Wherever  we  are  able  to  demonstrate  increased  re- 
sistance, we  are  able  to  perceive  an  increase  in  feeling. 
Wherever  we  are  able  to  show  that  resistance  has  been 
diminished,  we  observe  a  corresponding  decrease  in  feel- 
ing.   This  is  especially  noticeable  in  habit  and  in  case  of 


56  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

narcotics.  Such  a  theory  will  also  enable  us  to  explain 
why  it  is  so  very  difficult  to  remember,  recall,  reinstate  a 
feeling.  We  may  remember  that  we  have  experienced  a 
feeling,  and  may  even  reinstate  it  in  a  mild  way,  but  the 
reinstated  or  remembered  feeling  is  much  fainter  in  every 
respect  than  was  the  feeling  accompanying  the  original 
experience.  We  have  but  to  recognize  the  fact  that  a  cen- 
trally initiated  impulse  is  weaker  than  a  peripherally 
initiated  one  and  therefore  encounters  less  resistance, 
in  order  to  understand  why  it  is  so  difficult  to  reinstate 
a  feeling,  and  why  remembered  feelings  are  less  vivid  than 
are  the  feelings  accompanying  the  original  experience. 

But  the  strongest  evidence  of  the  truth  of  this  hy- 
pothesis will  be  found  in  its  general  conformity  to  every 
fact  of  feeling  that  we  know.  It  must  be  proved,  as  any 
other  hypothesis  must,  by  its  ability  to  explain  the  facts 
that  are  known,  associating  them  under  one  principle, 
and  to  be  contradicted  by  none.  Also,  if  it  enables  us  to 
predict  facts  that  are  as  yet  undiscovered,  and  then  we 
are  able  to  verify  our  prediction  by  discovering  the  facts, 
we  shall  have  decidedly  convincing  evidence  of  the  truth 
of  the  hypothesis.  All  of  these  things  it  is  possible  to 
do  by  means  of  this  theory.  The  larger  part  of  the  re- 
mainder of  this  book  will  be  devoted  to  a  discussion  of  the 
facts  of  feeling  which  find  their  explanation  only  in  some 
hypothesis  such  as  this. 

We  have  seen  that  there  is  indubitable  evidence  of  a 
delay  in  the  transmission  of  a  nervous  impulse  through  a 
brain  center,  while  there  is  not  so  great  delay  in  the  trans- 
mission through  a  reflex  arc.  We  have  accounted  for  this 
delay  in  transmission  through  the  brain  center  by  the  fact 
that  the  nervous  impulse  encounters  resistance.  Here, 
then,  we  have  a  difference  and  a  means  of  distinguishing 
between  the  nervous  impulse  that  is  accompanied  by  a 
mental  process  and  a  reflex  that  is  not.  Hence  we  are 
compelled  to  recognize  that  this  delay,  hesitation,  resist- 


THE   HYPOTHESIS  57 

ance  in  the  brain  center  is  a  concomitant  of  every  kind 
of  mental  process.  If  it  were  not  for  this  delay,  we  should 
have  no  kind  of  a  mental  process  except  that  which  is  in- 
volved in  a  reflex  act.  It  is  scarcely  too  much  to  say  that 
all  of  our  mental  processes  are  associated  with  this  delay 
arising  out  of  resistance.  Perception,  judgment,  atten- 
tion, reasoning,  feeling,  consciousness,  memory,  will, — ^all 
of  these  mental  processes  find  their  concomitants  in  the 
physiological  processes  involved  in  this  delay.  This  is 
the  interpretation  that  we  may  put  upon  Mr.  Spencer^s 
statement  that  all  mental  processes  arise  out  of  feeling. 

If  all  mental  processes  have  their  concomitants  in  some 
feature  of  this  delay,  why  do  we  single  out  feeling  as  the 
concomitant  of  the  resistance  itself?  Why  is  not  resist- 
ance the  concomitant  of  cognition,  attention,  or  con- 
sciousness ? 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  the  statement  of  the  hypoth- 
esis we  have  used  the  term  resistance  in  a  very  technical 
sense,  comparable  to  the  use  that  is  made  of  it  in  case  of 
an  electric  current.  There  are  various  elements  of  a  cur- 
rent, such  as  driving  force,  field  of  influence,  work  done, 
methods  of  directing  it,  resistance,  etc.  No  current  can 
exist  without  all  of  them.  Every  current  not  only  en- 
counters some  resistance  but  it  must  have  a  conductor, 
there  must  be  some  driving  force,  it  is  capable  of  doing 
some  work,  it  is  directed  by  various  means,  it  exer- 
cises some  influence  upon  the  surrounding  space  or  upon 
objects  that  are  near.  Resistance  is  only  one  of  these  ele- 
ments, and  it  is  the  only  one  of  them  that  can  be  consid- 
ered as  the  concomitant  of  feeling,  and  used  to  explain 
its  phenomena.  If  we  undertake  to  associate  the  phe- 
nomena of  cognition,  or  intellect,  with  the  fact  of  resist- 
ance, we  encounter  insuperable  diflBculties.  When  the 
conditions  of  body  and  brain  are  such  as  to  establish 
great  resistance,  and  manifest  a  slow  rate  of  transmis- 
sion, the  amount  of  feeling  is  increased  but  the  amount 


58  THE   PEELINGS   OP   MAN 

of  intellectual  work  that  we  are  capable  of  doing  is  not 
increased,  but  diminished.  So  when  we  test  it  by  trying 
to  explain  the  phenomena  of  memory,  will,  attention,  or 
consciousness,  we  shall  find  corresponding  difficulties. 
Resistance  seems  to  be  the  only  element  of  the  nervous 
current  that  varies  concomitantly  with  feeling,  and  every 
phenomena  of  feeling  finds  its  appropriate  explanation  in 
resistance.  From  this  fact  we  determine  the  concomitance 
between  resistance  and  feeling.  We  shall  discover  that 
each  of  the  other  elements  of  the  nervous  current  has  its 
appropriate  mental  concomitant.  So  while  the  delay 
arising  out  of  resistance  is  necessary  to  the  establishing 
of  every  process  called  mental,  it  is  the  resistance  in  a 
technical  sense  that  must  be  described  as  the  concomitant 
of  feeling. 

We  have  tried  to  avoid  a  form  of  statement  that  would 
imply  a  causal  connection  between  the  resistance  and 
feeling.  But  the  question  naturally  arises:  "What  is 
the  connection  between  feeling  and  resistance?"  We  are 
as  utterly  unable  to  answer  this  question  as  we  are  to 
answer  any  other  question  that  demands  a  statement  of 
the  ultimate  relation  between  mind  and  body.  Why  we 
should  experience  any  kind  of  a  mental  process  when  a 
nervous  impulse  traverses  one  brain  center,  and  another 
kind  of  a  process  w^hen  an  impulse  traverses  a  different 
brain  center,  is  equally  unknown.  Why  we  should  expe- 
rience much  feeling  when  much  resistance  is  encountered 
in  the  brain  center,  and  little  feeling  when  the  resistance 
is  small,  is  merely  another  form  of  putting  the  same  in- 
scrutable question.  We  may  accept  it  as  a  fact  in  the 
same  way  that  we  accept  any  other  ultimate  fact.  We 
are  no  less  able  to  answer  one  of  these  questions  than  we 
are  to  answer  the  question  why  copper  conducts  electric- 
ity, or  why  a  body  unsupported  falls  to  the  ground.  We 
can  associate  the  phenomena  of  mental  life  with  other 
processes  that  have  been  developed  through  the  ages  by 


THE   HYPOTHESIS  59 

the  process  of  natural  selection  working  upon  fortuitous 
variation,  and  transmitted  by  heredity.  The  nervous 
system  seems  to  have  been  developed  in  such  a  way  that 
those  individuals  in  whom  resistance  in  the  brain  center 
was  accompanied  by  feeling  have  had  the  best  chance  for 
survival,  and  have  left  the  larger  number  of  descendants. 
So  far  as  this  is  any  explanation  we  may  adopt  it.  Be- 
yond this  point  we  are  unable  to  go. 

Synopsis. 

1 — Feeling  is  the  concomitant  of  the  resistance  which 
a  nervous  current  encounters  in  passing  through  a  ner- 
vous arc. 

2 — Nearly  all  psychologists  have  recognized  the  fact 
that  a  nervous  impulse  encounters  resistance. 

3 — Resistance  depends  upon  two  factors;  the  nature  of 
the  nervous  arc  and  the  strength  of  the  current.  This 
fact  necessitates  the  postulation  of  two  laws  for  resist- 
ance, and  two  laws  for  feeling. 

4 — While  all  mental  processes  are  associated  with  the 
delay  in  transmission,  it  is  only  feeling  that  can  he  de- 
scribed as  the  concomitant  of  resistance. 

5 — The  general  evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  hypothesis 
is  to  he  found  in  the  facts  of  concomitant  variation,  and 
in  the  possibility  of  explaining  every  fact  of  feeling  by 
means  of  it. 


Chapter  V. 
THE  EXPRESSION  OF  FEELING. 

Whenever  a  feeling  is  experienced,  it  is  accompanied  by 
some  muscular  movement  or  glandular  activity  that  is 
called  its  expression.  The  muscles  of  the  face  are  par- 
ticularly expressive  muscles,  although  perhaps  a  very 
large  part  of  their  expressiveness  comes  from  the  fact  that 
the  face  is  most  commonly  exposed  to  view,  and  we  have, 
therefore,  learned  to  interpret  the  facial  movements  better 
than  the  movements  of  any  other  part  of  the  body.  We 
can  tell  by  the  movements  that  the  facial  muscles  make, 
very  nearly  the  kind  of  feeling  that  a  person  is  experi- 
encing. When  we  see  the  corners  of  the  mouth  drawn 
down,  the  forehead  wrinkled,  the  eyebrows  drawn  to- 
gether, we  feel  very  confident  that  the  immediate  prospect 
does  not  appear  to  that  individual  in  the  most  roseate 
colors.  If  we  observe  the  corners  of  the  mouth  elevated, 
the  eyelids  raised  rather  more  than  usual,  the  chin  lifted, 
we  know  that  the  outlook  is  not  such  as  to  plunge  him 
into  the  depths  of  despair.  So  the  facial  muscles  are 
capable  of  expressing  emotions  of  the  most  bewildering 
variety. 

We  have  had  so  much  opportunity  for  observing  the 
expression  of  emotion  upon  a  person's  face,  that  we  have 
become  exceedingly  skillful  in  interpreting  the  most 
minute  indications  of  it.  The  amount  of  movement  which 
it  is  necessary  for  the  facial  muscles  to  make  in  order  for 
us  to  recognize  a  change  in  the  feeling  experienced,  is  so 
exceedingly  small  as  to  be  almost  incalculable.  The  com- 
bined action  of  several  muscles  each  in  an  exceedingly 
small  degree,  produces  such  an  amazing  complexity  of  ex- 

61 


62  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

pression  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  analyze  a  single 
one  out  of  the  great  number,  and  yet,  as  a  result  of  long 
experience  in  observing  them,  we  readily  recognize  each. 

We  are  so  much  accustomed  to  judging  of  a  person's 
{feelings  by  the  movement  of  the  facial  muscles,  that  we 
almost  forget  that  other  muscles  are  as  truly  expressive 
as  are  the  muscles  of  the  face.  It  is  universally  known 
that  the  heart  beats  differently  when  we  are  experiencing 
one  kind  of  feeling  from  what  it  does  when  we  are  ex- 
periencing another  kind.  The  rate  of  beating,  and  the 
vigor  of  the  stroke  are  correlative  to  the  appropriate  kind 
of  feeling.  The  muscles  that  are  employed  in  breathing 
also  modify  their  activity  when  we  are  experiencing  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  feeling.  If  our  feelings  are  such  as  have  a 
painful  tone,  the  action  of  the  diaphragm  and  the  inter- 
costal muscles  is  likely  to  be  such  as  to  diminish  the 
amount  of  air  that  enters  the  lungs  at  one  inspiration, 
while  if  the  feeling  experienced  has  a  pleasurable  tone  the 
inspiration  is  likely  to  be  deeper  and  fuller.  The  muscles 
that  move  the  visceral  organs  also  act  in  a  different  way 
when  we  are  experiencing  one  kind  of  feeling  from  that  in 
which  they  move  when  we  are  experiencing  another  kind. 
The  muscles  that  control  the  dimensions  of  the  arteries 
and  the  smaller  bloodvessels  respond  to  the  influences  as- 
sociated with  the  different  kinds  of  feelings,  and  produce 
the  changes  of  blushing  and  pallor,  a  strictly  muscular 
expression.  So  we  recognize  that  the  facial  muscles,  the 
respiratory  muscles,  the  visceral  muscles,  the  circulatory 
muscles,  and  the  heart  are  all  muscles  expressive  of 
feeling. 

Not  merely  the  muscles  that  move  these  different  inter- 
nal organs  express  feeling,  but  also  the  larger  muscles  that 
control  the  legs  and  arms,  the  head  and  the  entire  body 
are  equally  expressive.  We  understand  the  state  of  feel- 
ing of  a  person  perhaps  as  well  by  the  movement  of  the 
hands,  the  way  he  jerks  his  head,  the  nervous  tapping  of 


THE   EXPRESSION   OF   FEELING  63 

the  foot,  as  by  the  expression  of  the  face  itself.  The  very 
attitude  of  the  body  expresses  confidence,  fear,  apprehen- 
sion, or  any  other  feeling.  By  the  attitude  of  his  body 
when  he  is  walking  along  the  street,  we  can  judge  of  a  per- 
son's frame  of  mind,  and  something  of  the  feelings  that 
he  is  experiencing.  The  erect  carriage,  firm  tread,  head 
up,  shoulders  back,  express  a  state  of  mind  that  is  easily 
recognized  without  even  a  glimpse  of  the  face,  while  the 
stooping  posture,  drooping  shoulders,  hanging  head,  and 
slow,  hesitating  movement  of  the  feet  in  walking  indicate 
a  feeling  of  a  very  different  kind.  We  can  tell  that  a  man 
is  angry  if  we  see  no  more  than  his  back  when  he  is  walk- 
ing away  from  us.  We  say  that  he  is  mad  clear  through. 
The  muscles  that  control  the  movement  and  attitude  of 
the  body  are  as  truly  expressive  as  are  the  muscles  of  the 
face. 

Not  merely  the  voluntary  muscles  that  are  often  called 
into  action  express  feeling,  but  some  muscles  that  are 
vestigial  and  no  longer  have  any  function  in  the  ordinary 
movements  are  expressive.  The  little  muscle  at  the  root 
of  each  hair  in  the  scalp  is  a  vestigial  muscle  which  in 
some  cases  of  extreme  fright  is  stimulated  to  contraction, 
tending  to  cause  the  hair  to  stand  erect  upon  the  head. 

The  expression  of  feeling  is  not  limited,  however,  to  the 
movement  of  muscles.  It  is  a  most  common  observation 
that  children  weep,  shedding  tears  when  they  are  experi- 
encing a  strong  feeling  of  grief  or  anger.  The  lachrymal 
glands  secrete  more  abundantly  when  grief  is  experienced 
than  when  it  is  not.  So  the  contemplation  of  a  luscious 
watermelon  or  other  particularly  attractive  articles  of 
food  is  likely  to  establish  such  a  feeling  that,  as  we  say, 
"our  mouths  water."  The  salivary  glands  secrete  their 
proper  fluid  in  greater  abundance  when  we  are  experienc- 
ing the  feeling  that  accompanies  the  sight  of  a  much 
desired  article  of  food.  When  we  are  badly  frightened, 
a  cold  sweat  breaks  out.    The  sudoriparous  glands  secrete 


64  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

more  abundantly  than  usual  when  we  are  experiencing 
the  feeling  of  intense  fear.  The  ordinary  stimulus  for 
the  secretion  of  perspiration  is  heat,  but  in  the  case  of 
cold  sweat,  the  stimulus  is  not  heat,  but  a  nervous  impulse 
is  directed  to  the  glands  by  some  other  means,  and  the 
sweat  instead  of  being  hot,  as  is  usually  the  case,  is  cold. 

Glandular  secretion,  then,  is  another  expression  of  feel- 
ing, and  there  is  little  doubt  that  under  the  stimulus  of 
an  appropriate  feeling,  almost  any  gland  in  the  body  may 
be  caused  to  secrete  so  that  its  activity  would  properly  be 
an  expression  of  the  feelings.  Glands  are  like  muscles  in 
the  fact  that  their  secretion  is  determined  by  the  stimula- 
tion of  a  nervous  impulse.  If  any  gland  were  to  be  de- 
prived of  its  nervous  connection,  and  an  impulse  fail  to 
run  out  to  it,  the  function  of  the  gland  would  be  at  once 
destroyed.  The  gland  secretes  and  the  muscle  contracts 
when  a  nervous  impulse  runs  out  to  it,  and  if  no  impulse 
reaches  either  the  gland  or  the  muscle  the  function  of  that 
organ  is  not  accomplished.  Any  really  valid  explanation 
of  the  expression  of  feeling  must  explain  how  it  is  that  a 
nervous  impulse  runs  out  to  the  expressive  organ. 

Occasionally  the  paralysis  of  a  gland  or  a  muscle  is  an 
expression  of  feeling.  In  cases  of  great  fear,  some  per- 
sons are  paralyzed  and  incapable  of  moving.  It  is  said  that 
in  a  method  of  criminal  trial  in  India,  the  suspected  person 
is  compelled  to  eat  a  rice  cake.  It  is  presumed  that  if  he  is 
guilty,  he  cannot  swallow  the  cake,  while  if  he  is  not, 
then  no  difficulty  is  experienced  in  eating  it.  The  ex- 
planation is  that  when  a  person  who  knows  he  is  guilty 
is  put  on  trial,  he  is  so  affected  that  the  salivary  glands 
are  paralyzed,  failing  to  secrete  saliva,  and  the  cake  is 
ground  into  a  dry  powder  which  cannot  be  swallowed. 
The  innocent  person  is  not  so  affected  and,  not  experi- 
encing the  same  kind  of  feeling,  his  salivary  glands  are 
not  paralyzed,  and  no  difficulty  is  encountered  in  eating 
the  cake. 


THE   EXPRESSION  OF   FEELING  DO 

In  some  instances  a  nervous  impulse  carried  to  a  muscle 
inhibits  its  activity.  An  impulse  carried  to  the  heart 
along  the  vagus  nerve  causes  the  beating  of  the  heart  to 
cease.  Similarly,  stimulation  of  certain  centers  in  the 
medulla  from  which  impulses  lead  to  the  respiratory  mus- 
cles, inhibits  their  activity.  So  we  may  readily  under- 
stand that  if  an  impulse  is  sent  along  the  proper  nerve  to 
a  gland  or  to  a  muscle,  its  appropriate  activity  will  be 
checked,  or  temporarily  destroyed.  Either  inhibition  or 
activity  of  gland  or  muscle  may  constitute  an  expression 
of  feeling.  In  order  that  the  inhibition  may  constitute 
expression,  however,  it  must  be  the  result  of  a  nervous 
impulse  reaching  the  gland  or  muscle  along  the  proper 
inhibitory  nerve.  The  essential  feature  of  the  expression 
is  an  impulse  running  out  to  the  organ  whose  activity  is 
recognized  by  us  as  an  expression. 

It  is  in  the  expression  of  feelings  that  the  James'  theory 
differs  most  widely  from  the  common  theory.  The  com- 
mon theory  asserts  that  the  feeling  is  experienced  first  and 
the  expression  follows;  the  feeling  is  the  cause  of  the 
expression.  In  this  common  theory,  no  plausible  reason 
can  be  given  for  the  expression.  The  feeling  is  the  same 
whether  it  is  expressed  or  not,  and  the  expression  seems 
to  have  no  use  except  perhaps  as  a  means  of  communica- 
tion. It  is  even  supposed  by  some  psychologists  that  the 
mobility  of  the  facial  features  is  part  of  a  design  for  ren- 
dering expression  possible,  and  some  features  and  some 
muscles  find  their  only  function  in  expressive  movements. 

In  the  James  theory,  the  expression  causes  the  feeling. 
Without  the  expression,  there  is  no  feeling.  The  principal 
difference,  then,  is  in  the  order  of  the  feeling  and  the 
expression. 

If  we  interpret  expression  in  terms  of  the  resistance 
theory,  we  shall  see  that  expressive  movements  arise  as  a 
consequence  of  the  resistance  that  a  nervous  impulse  en- 
counters in  passing  through  a  nervous  arc.    Whenever  a 


66  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

current  encounters  resistance,  it  follows  the  path  in  which 
the  least  resistance  is  encountered.  Any  kind  of  current, 
water,  electricity,  or  nervous,  will  have  its  path  deter- 
mined by  the  resistance  it  meets.  The  amount  of  current 
that  goes  over  two  conductors  extending  between  the  same 
two  points  is  inversely  proportional  to  the  relative 
amounts  of  resistance  offered  by  each. 

In  this  respect  a  nervous  current  is  similar  to  any  other. 
It  will  spread  out  into  the  direction  in  which  the  least 
resistance  is  offered.  The  resistance  of  a  brain  center,  as 
we  have  seen  in  a  previous  chapter,  is  capable  of  being 
modified  by  at  least  three  circumstances :  habit,  attention, 
and  natural  constitution  or  heredity. 

The  fact  that  a  nervous  impulse  radiates  out  of  the 
brain  center  through  which  it  is  passing,  and  in  which  it 
is  the  concomitant  of  a  particular  kind  of  feeling,  is  recog- 
nized by  many  psychologists.  Baldwin  says:  "In  adult 
life,  also,  very  intense  stimulations  cannot  be  held  within 
their  ordinary  channels,  but  become  diffused  through 
many  courses.  Note  the  contortions  of  the  man  under- 
going torture  at  the  hands  of  a  dentist."  {Handbook^  II, 
p.  296.)  Spencer  remarks:  "That  every  special  pleasure 
or  pain  does  produce  a  peripheral  or  central  diffused 
effect  is  clear.  .  .  .  Much  more  then,  does  it  spread 
through  those  more  directly  related  parts  of  the  nervous 
system  which  are  the  seats  of  conscious  action."  {Psi/- 
chology,  I,  p.  599.)  So  Darwin  has  stated  that  "when  the 
sensorium  is  strongly  excited,  nerve  force  is  generated  in 
excess,  and  is  transmitted  in  certain  definite  directions, 
depending  upon  the  connection  of  the  nerve  cells  and 
partly  upon  habit."  {Emotions,  p.  29.)  Again  quoting 
Darwin :  "The  radiation  of  nerve  force  from  strongly  ex- 
cited nerve  cells  to  other  connected  nerve  cells  may  help 
us  to  understand  how  some  reflex  actions  originated." 
(p.  41.)     And  again:    "On  the  principle  of  radiation  of 


THE   EXPRESSION   OF   FEELING  67 

nerve  force  to  adjoining  cells,  the  lachrymal  glands  would 
be  stimulated/'    (p.  170.) 

Admitting  this  principle,  that  when  resistance  to  the 
transmission  of  a  nervous  impulse  through  a  brain  center 
is  encountered,  the  nervous  energy  tends  to  flow  over  into 
the  other  centers  where  it  encounters  least  resistance,  we 
have  an  easy  explanation  of  the  expression  of  feeling. 
The  resistance  itself  is  the  concomitant  of  feeling,  but  the 
resistance  that  is  encountered  causes  the  nervous  impulse 
to  flow  out  into  other  centers  than  those  directly  involved 
in  the  path  of  the  current.  It  tends  to  overflow,  radiate, 
spread  out  into  other  portions  of  the  brain  than  that 
which  constitutes  the  nervous  arc  itself.  When  this  nerv- 
ous current,  driven  by  the  force  behind  it,  and  meeting 
with  resistance  in  front,  spreads  out,  it  runs  into  those 
portions  of  the  brain  in  the  direction  in  which  the  least 
resistance  is  encountered. 

For  the  sake  of  avoiding  circumlocution  in  the  rest  of 
this  explanation,  let  us  call  the  combination  of  cells  which 
is  traversed  by  an  impulse  when  a  particular  feeling  is 
experienced,  the  feeling  center;  and  the  combination  of 
cells  into  which  the  nervous  impulse  runs  when  a  muscular 
or  glandular  action  that  constitutes  the  expression  of  that 
particular  feeling  occurs,  the  expression  center.  In  this 
way,  we  may  use  short,  definite,  and  clear  expressions 
without  danger  of  being  misunderstood. 

The  expressions  of  feeling  most  easily  observed  are  these 
muscular  movements.  It  becomes  necessary  to  inquire 
why  it  is  that  this  energy  that  escapes  from  the  feeling 
center  should  run  into  the  motor  centers  rather  than  into 
other  portions  of  the  brain.  The  motor  areas  are  those 
that  are  the  earliest  organized.  They  are  the  centers 
whose  functions  are  among  the  most  necessary  to  the 
preservation  of  the  life  of  the  individual.  They  have  from 
the  first  been  connected  closely  with  the  operations  of  the 
other  centers;  such  as  the  sight  center,  hearing,  touch. 


68  THE   PEELINGS   OF   MAN 

taste,  smell,  and  muscular  sensation;  and  the  connection 
between  the  motor  centers  and  other  centers  is  very  likely 
to  be  closer  and  more  frequently  traversed  by  impulses 
than  is  the  connection  between  any  other  two  kinds  of 
centers,  as  for  instance,  between  sight  and  hearing.  Hence 
we  should  expect  to  find  that  in  case  of  overflow  of  nervous 
energy  from  one  center,  or  combination  of  cells,  the  radi- 
ating impulse  would  meet  with  less  resistance  in  flowing 
into  some  motor  center  than  in  flowing  into  any  other 
kind. 

When  we  take  into  account,  also,  that  the  motor  area 
lies  along  the  fissure  of  Kolando  directly  in  the  middle  of 
the  brain,  we  shall  see  that  the  passage  into  the  motor 
area  from  almost  any  other  portion  of  the  brain  is  likely 
to  be  rendered  very  easy.  Hence  we  shall  expect  to  find 
that  the  resistance  in  a  center  suflficient  to  constitute  the 
concomitant  of  any  kind  of  feeling,  is  likely  to  be  followed 
by  some  kind  of  a  muscular  movement. 

Whatever  may  be  said  of  muscular  movement  as  a  form 
of  expression,  may  be  affirmed  with  less  facility  of  demon- 
stration, of  glandular  activity. 

It  is  doubtful  if  the  expression  of  feeling  is  really  lim- 
ited to  glandular  secretion  and  muscular  movement.  On 
this  principle  of  the  expression  as  resulting  from  the  over- 
flow of  nervous  energy,  the  activity  of  any  brain  center 
that  results  from  the  overflow  would  constitute  an  ex- 
pression of  feeling.  It  is  likely  that  many  kinds  of  mental 
processes,  each  of  a  very  moderate  degree  of  intensity, 
that  occur  at  the  same  time  as  the  principal  process,  ought 
properly  to  be  explained  as  expression  of  feeling.  This  is 
particularly  true  of  consciousness,  and  constitutes  the 
best  possible  explanation  of  the  close  relation  between 
consciousness  and  feeling.  Sometimes  when  a  person  be- 
comes very  angry,  he  sees  red.  This  intellectual  sensation, 
with  many  others  that  will  probably  be  discovered  of  a 


THE   EXPRESSION  OF   FEELING  69 

similar  nature,  properly  constitutes  an  expression  of 
feeling. 

In  this  explanation  of  the  expression,  we  have  a  means 
of  understanding  the  relation  between  the  feeling  and  the 
movement  that  expresses  it.  The  feeling  is  not  the  cause 
of  the  expression,  as  the  common  theory  would  assert,  nor 
is  the  expression  the  cause  of  the  feeling,  as  the  James 
theory  would  affirm ;  but  both  feeling  and  expression  arise 
out  of  the  same  circumstance,  the  resistance  that  is  en- 
countered by  the  nervous  impulse  in  passing  through  a 
brain  center.  The  expression  does  not  precede  the  feeling, 
nor  does  the  feeling  precede  the  expression,  but  both  feel- 
ing and  expression  arise  at  the  same  time,  that  being  de- 
termined by  the  time  that  the  resistance  is  encountered. 
The  relation  is  one  of  concomitance  and  direct  relation, 
and  not  of  sequence  nor  causality. 

We  have  also  in  this  explanation  a  means  of  under- 
standing the  relation  between  the  intensity  of  feeling  and 
the  magnitude  of  the  expression.  Since  both  are  condi- 
tioned by  the  amount  of  resistance  encountered,  we  can  be 
logical  only  by  asserting  that  the  greater  the  resistance, 
the  greater  will  be  both  the  feeling  and  the  expression. 
Since  both  feeling  and  expression  vary  with  the  resistance, 
they  will  vary  with  each  other.  Both  will  vary  directly 
as  the  resistance  encountered  and  as  the  resistance  in- 
creases, so  will  both  feeling  and  expression  increase.  In 
case  of  much  feeling,  not  only  the  muscle  that  is  usually 
considered  the  expressive  muscle  for  that  feeling  will  con- 
tract, but  many  muscles  not  considered  expressive  of  that 
feeling  at  all  will  be  thrown  into  contraction.  This  is  the 
case  referred  to  by  Baldwin  in  the  quotation  about  the 
man  writhing  in  the  dentist's  chair.  The  overflow  of 
energy  escapes  into  the  whole  motor  area,  and  every  mus- 
cle in  the  body  may  be  caused  to  contract  in  various  de- 
grees by  this  influx.  A  feeling  of  smaller  degree  of  inten- 
sity will  be  an  accompaniment  of  less  overflow,  and  only 


70  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

those  centers  most  easy  of  access  will  receive  an  appreci- 
able quantity  of  it. 

We  are  now  in  position  to  demonstrate  the  true  theory 
of  the  relation  between  the  inhibition  of  the  expression 
and  the  decrease  of  feeling.  The  James  theory  offers  as 
one  of  its  lines  of  evidence  the  fact  that  the  inhibition  of 
the  expression  inhibits  the  feeling.  While  we  have  already 
observed  that  in  some  cases  this  is  known  to  be  directly 
contrary  to  fact,  in  other  cases  it  appears  to  be  true.  The 
resistance  theory  of  feeling  will  enable  us  to  bring  into 
harmony  the  observations  that  appear  to  be  directly  con- 
tradictory. 

It  has  already  been  observed  that  the  inhibition  of  cer- 
tain muscular  activities,  as  in  the  case  of  paralysis  from 
fear  and  the  failure  of  some  very  ordinary  glandular  secre- 
tions, in  itself  constitutes  the  expression  of  the  feeling. 
In  order  to  inhibit  such  an  expression  we  shall  have  to 
inhibit  the  inhibition,  which  is  not,  however,  a  paradox 
nor  a  contradiction  in  terms. 

In  cases  where  the  inhibition  is  a  true  expression,  the 
nervous  energy  may  be  conceived  to  overflow  into  some 
center  that  is  connected  with  the  organ  whose  function  is 
inhibited  by  a  nerve  similar  to  that  of  the  vagus  nerve  of 
the  heart.  Here  the  inhibition  is  an  expression,  not  really 
a  process  that  comes  within  the  limits  of  the  evidence 
offered  by  Mr.  James. 

In  many  cases  we  mean  by  inhibition  the  substitution 
of  one  mental  process  in  which  the  feeling  is  much  les- 
sened for  another  in  which  the  feeling  element  is  greater. 
"When  angry,  count  ten;  when  very  angry,  count  a  hun- 
dred," said  Jefferson.  But  when  we  are  angry,  we  are 
contemplating  a  situation  that  may  be  very  complex,  in- 
volving many  different  elements,  and  the  nervous  impulse 
which  is  transmitted  through  all  these  combinations  of 
brain  cells  is  encountering  much  resistance.  When  we 
stop  and  count  ten,  we  are  directing  the  nervous  impulse 


THE   BxWbSSION  OF   FEELING  Tl 

through  a  totally  different  combination,  drawing  off  the 
nervous  current  from  the  combination  in  which  resistance 
is  encountered  into  another  in  which  little  resistance 
occurs.  We  thus  diminish  very  much  the  intensity  of  the 
current  running  through  the  first  combination,  lessening 
the  amount  of  resistance,  and  producing  a  lessened  feeling. 

This  is  a  very  common  example,  and  the  type  of  illus- 
trations that  is  commonly  used  as  evidence  of  Mr.  Jameses 
proposition  that  inhibiting  the  expression  inhibits  the 
feeling.  It  is  not  strictly  in  point,  and  does  not  serve  di- 
rectly the  argument  of  Mr.  James.  How  is  it  that  a  direct 
inhibition  of  the  expression,  without  any  substitution,  may 
diminish  the  feeling? 

We  have  seen  that  one  of  the  ways  in  which  the  amount 
of  resistance  may  be  decreased  is  by  a  process  of  attention. 
The  explanation  of  the  mechanism  of  this  process  must  be 
deferred  to  a  subsequent  chapter,  but  we  may  accept  it  on 
faith  for  the  present.  Attention  is  a  process  by  means  of 
which  nervous  currents  are  directed  into  and  through  a 
brain  center.  The  only  mechanism  by  means  of  which  the 
nervous  impulse  may  be  directed  is  one  in  which  the  re- 
sistance is  varied,  being  increased  in  some  directions  and 
decreased  in  others.  If  by  a  process  of  attention,  we  are 
able  to  diminish  the  resistance  that  the  nervous  impulse 
encounters  in  passing  through  a  brain  center,  we  shall 
lessen  its  tendency  to  overflow  out  of  the  brain  center,  and 
diminish  the  amount  of  energy  that  escapes  from  the  brain 
center  into  the  expressive  organs.  This  effect  may  be 
brought  about  without  lessening  the  amount  of  intellectual 
work  that  may  be  accomplished  by  it.  When  we  diminish 
the  expression  by  means  of  lessening  the  resistance  in  the 
brain  center,  the  same  process  diminishes  the  feeling. 

This  explanation  seems  in  every  way  understandable 
and  explains  the  diminished  feeling  more  satisfactorily 
than  does  the  James  theory.  When  we  inhibit  the  ex- 
pression in  this  manner,  we  describe  it  by  saying  that  we 


72  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

have  reasoned  ourselves  out  of  the  feeling.  But  let  us  ex- 
amine cases  such  as  every  one  has  himself  experienced, 
and  which  seem  to  contradict  directly  the  proposition  of 
Mr.  James. — These  cases  have  been  noted  by  Hoffding, 
quoted  before:  "The  concealment  of  a  feeling  may  cause 
it  to  penetrate  deeper  into  the  nature  of  the  individual." 
{Psychology,  p.  332.)  In  a  good  many  cases,  it  seems  as 
if  the  expression  of  feeling  is  one  of  the  best  means  of 
diminishing  its  intensity;  bottling  it  up  merely  increases 
it.  The  comfort  of  a  "good  cry"  to  many  women  is  some- 
thing not  to  be  denied.  Not  to  cry,  to  inhibit  the  ex- 
pression, has  no  effect  in  diminishing  the  feeling. 

Attention  directs  the  nervous  impulse  by  varying  the 
resistance  between  cells  and  centers.  It  may  increase  the 
resistance  in  one  place,  and  diminish  it  in  another.  If  we 
suppose  that  we  increase  the  resistance  between  the  feel- 
ing center  and  the  expression  center,  without  decreasing 
the  resistance  between  the  cells  in  the  feeling  center  itself, 
we  shall  have  inhibited  the  expression  without  inhibiting 
the  feeling.  While  this  may  not  be  the  usual  action  of  at- 
tention, it  will  explain  the  results  observed  in  the  unusual 
cases.  The  inhibition  of  the  expression  without  inhibiting 
the  feeling  is  an  unusual  procedure  at  the  best,  but  it  does 
occur  many  times  and  every  one  has  experienced  it. 

Still  another  series  of  phenomena  needs  to  be  explained. 
The  James  theory  asserts  that  giving  expression  to  the 
feeling  induces  the  feeling  itself.  While  we  have  already 
seen  that  this  is  not  universally  true,  that  many  times  the 
expression  of  feeling  may  be  observed  without  the  feeling 
being  experienced,  that  there  is  no  causal  connection  be- 
tween the  expression  and  the  feeling,  still  there  are  cases 
in  which  it  seems  to  be  true.  How  shall  we  explain  the 
examples  in  which  the  feeling  seems  to  be  engendered  as 
a  result  of  the  expression? 

When  we  give  expression  to  a  feeling,  a  nervous  im- 
pulse is  traversing  the  expression  center.    If  it  is  a  true 


THE   EXPRESSION  OF   FEELING  73 

expression,  the  impulse  has  entered  the  expression  center 
from  the  feeling  center.  But  we  may  direct  a  nervous 
impulse  into  the  expression  center  by  an  act  of  attention, 
without  its  having  come  from  the  feeling  center,  and  we 
have  the  expression  without  the  feeling.  But  we  must 
suppose  that  the  connection  between  the  feeling  center  and 
the  expression  center  is  a  very  close  one,  with  little  re- 
sistance encountered  by  a  nervous  impulse  in  going  from 
one  to  the  other.  If  a  nervous  impulse  is  traversing  the 
expression  center  it  will  easily  flow  over  into  the  feeling 
center.  If  the  amount  of  nervous  impulse  is  great  enough 
to  encounter  considerable  resistance  in  the  feeling  center, 
the  feeling  will  be  experienced;  moreover  it  will  become 
greater  as  the  amount  of  current  that  enters  the  feeling 
center  is  increased  and  as  the  resistance  in  the  center  be- 
comes greater. 

There  is  one  consideration  that  seems  to  conflict  with 
this  explanation.  We  have  assumed  that  the  impulse  will 
flow  as  readily  from  the  expression  center  into  the  feeling 
center  as  it  will  from  the  feeling  center  into  the  expression 
center.  Some  observations  seem  to  show  that  the  nervous 
impulse  always  flows  one  way,  not  both.  It  is  believed  that 
the  nervous  impulse  always  enters  the  neuron  by  means  of 
a  dendrite,  and  leaves  it  by  an  axon.  Without  detracting 
from  the  accuracy  of  the  observations  from  which  this  de- 
duction is  made,  we  may  question  the  universality  of  the 
conclusion.  The  observations  from  which  the  conclusion 
is  drawn  are  made  upon  the  ganglion  cells  in  the  spinal 
cord,  and  not  in  the  brain.  The  spinal  nerves  and  ganglia 
have  never  been  called  upon  to  transmit  impulses  in  more 
than  one  way,  their  function  does  not  demand  it  nor  per- 
mit it,  and  when  the  experiment  is  made,  the  function  of 
transmission  in  the  unusual  way  is  similar  to  that  in  an 
undeveloped  cell.  But  in  the  brain,  impulses  have  been 
transmitted  in  all  ways  throughout  the  life  of  the  indi- 


74  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

vidual,  and  we  are  scarcely  justified  in  admitting  that  the 
Impulse  will  not  go  in  either  direction. 

In  fact,  it  is  demonstrable  that  the  impulse  will  pass 
readily  between  two  centers  in  either  way.  The  sight  of 
a  bell  will  call  up  the  sound  of  it,  and  the  sound  will  call 
up  its  image.  Hundreds  of  examples  of  this  kind  will  show 
that  the  process  is  reversible,  for  the  association  of  the 
auditory  and  visual  images  demand  that  a  nervous  impulse 
pass  either  way  from  one  center  to  the  other.  But  even  if 
it  is  demonstrable  that  in  a  particular  cell  the  impulse  will 
pass  in  only  one  way,  it  still  remains  true  that  the  impulse 
does  pass  both  ways  between  combinations.  The  impulse 
may  travel  a  different  path  in  going  from  B  to  A  from 
that  which  it  travels  in  going  from  A  to  B,  but  practically 
the  effect  is  the  same  as  if  the  two  paths  were  identical. 

It  is  now  necessary  for  us  to  consider  the  question  why 
certain  feelings  have  the  particular  forms  of  expression 
that  they  do.  Why  should  the  one  muscle  contract  when 
resistance  is  encountered  in  one  brain  center,  and  a  dif- 
ferent muscle,  when  resistance  is  encountered  in  another  ? 
The  final  and  all-sufficient  answer  to  explain  the  present 
expression  is  that  the  resistance  between  the  two  centers, 
the  feeling  center  and  its  expression  center,  is  less  than  it 
is  between  the  feeling  center  and  any  other.  But  this  is  no 
explanation,  and  we  still  need  to  answer  the  question  why 
it  is  that  the  resistance  between  these  two  centers  is  less 
than  it  is  between  the  feeling  center  and  any  other. 

In  some  cases,  habit  may  be  sufficient  to  account  for  the 
diminished  resistance  between  centers.  A  person  who  has 
from  any  cause  contracted  a  habit  of  swearing  as  an  ex- 
pression of  anger  or  vexation,  will  almost  unconsciously 
swear  when  any  such  feeling  is  experienced.  So  the 
pounding  of  the  table  as  an  expression  of  feeling  may  be- 
come such  a  habit  that  it  unconsciously  occurs  when  the 
feeling  is  experienced.  Habit  has  resulted  in  rendering 
the  transmission  between  feeling  center  and  expression 


THE   EXPRESSION   OF   FEELING  75 

center  easy.  While  this  explanation  fails  to  consider  how 
or  why  the  action  was  originally  adopted  as  a  form  of  ex- 
pression, it  does  explain  how  it  comes  to  be  merely  a  form 
of  expression  and  meaningless  as  anything  else. 

In  many  cases,  the  expression  is  some  kind  of  an  action 
that  is  now,  or  was  in  some  former  situation,  useful.  This 
useful  action  accompanying  a  feeling  gave  its  possessor  an 
advantage  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  It  came  into  op- 
eration by  variation,  was  fixed  by  natural  selection  and 
transmitted  by  heredity.  Mr.  Darwin  was  the  first  who 
pointed  out  the  advantage  of  many  such  expressions  of 
feeling,  and  the  list  is  constantly  extending.  Examples 
of  advantageous  expressive  actions  are  found  in  the  snarl- 
ing of  the  dog,  in  which  the  lifting  of  the  upper  lip  exposes 
the  canine  teeth  rendering  the  animal  ready  for  combat 
as  well  as  warning  a  prospective  antagonist  of  the  pre- 
paredness of  the  dog.  Mr.  Darwin  considers  the  wrink- 
ling of  the  forehead  and  the  drawing  together  of  the  eye- 
brows as  another  example  of  such  expressions.  It  is  an 
attempt  to  see  farther  and  more  clearly  in  situations  where 
the  seeing  is  difficult,  such  as  those  in  which  the  sun  is 
shining  in  the  eyes.  So  any  feeling  of  perplexity  that  is 
similar  to  that  manifested  in  trying  to  see  under  disadvan- 
tageous circumstances  is  likely  to  be  expressed  in  the  same 
manner.  It  is  evident  that  the  same  or  closely  connected 
brain  centers  must  be  involved  in  the  production  of  feel- 
ings that  have  the  same  expression. 

Children  cry.  The  cry  constitutes  a  very  common  and 
usual  expression  of  pain.  This  expression  is  advantage- 
ous to  the  individual,  for  it  is  a  demand  by  a  helpless  child 
upon  a  stronger  person  for  assistance.  This  expression  is 
so  important  that  it  is  doubtful  if  the  race  would  long  sur- 
vive  if  it  were  obliterated  withoi  t  some  substitute  replac- 
ing it.  The  crying  is  an  expressi  m  whose  nervous  connec- 
tion is  already  organized  at  bin  h.  Hence  it  is  that  the 
movements  involved  partake  of  the  nature  of  a  reflex,  and 


76  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

as  such  it  is  possible  to  consider  these  movements  not  prop- 
erly expressive  of  feeling,  but  purely  reflex  actions.  It 
makes  little  difference  how  we  consider  it.  The  crying 
muscles  are  already  closely  connected  with  the  centers  in 
which  resistance  is  encountered,  and  with  a  great  many 
feeling  centers. 

Fear  is  a  feeling  having  a  painful  tone,  and  it  is  of  the 
greatest  importance  in  preserving  the  lives  of  individuals. 
Not  only  is  the  feeling  itself  of  importance,  but  equally  so 
are  its  expressions.  The  expression  of  fear  is  not  uniform, 
but  changes  with  the  character  of  the  individual  by  whom 
the  feeling  is  experienced.  In  a  little  child,  or  any  other 
person  accustomed  to  rely  upon  the  assistance  of  others, 
the  common  expression  of  fear  is  a  scream,  which  is  a  de- 
mand for  assistance,  and  which  frequently  results  in  the 
escape  of  a  child  from  a  threatened  danger.  To  run  away 
from  danger  is  an  expression  of  fear  found  in  less  depend- 
ent classes  of  persons,  which  enables  the  individual  to 
escape  danger  and  to  survive  when,  in  many  cases,  to  stand 
his  ground  would  result  in  death.  It  is  an  advantageous 
expression. 

A  third  expression,  that  is  less  common  and  expressive 
of  the  most  intense  fear,  is  fear  paralysis.  It  is  manifested 
sometimes  in  man,  more  frequently  in  children,  but  is  best 
exemplified  in  those  animals  which  have  the  habit  of  feign- 
ing death.  The  opossum  affords  a  well-known  example, 
not  because  it  is  the  best,  but  because  fear  paralysis  is  an 
unusual  charcteristic  in  animals  as  highly  organized  as 
mammals.  The  habit  is  very  common  among  beetles. 
Probably  fifty  species  that  manifest  this  expression  have 
come  under  the  writer's  observation.  While  we  cannot  be 
assured  that  the  feigning  death  is  in  beetles  an  expression 
of  fear,  the  action  is  so  similar  to  that  of  the  opossum  and 
of  a  man  or  a  child  that  is  paralyzed  with  fear,  that  we  are 
inclined  to  attribute  it  to  the  same  cause.    This  would 


THE  EXPRESSION  OF   FEELING  77 

imply  that  beetles  experience  the  feeling  of  fear,  which 
would  be  very  difficult  to  demonstrate. 

Feigning  death  is  an  action  sometimes  extremely  advan- 
tageous, and  enables  an  animal  to  escape  from  a  danger- 
ous situation,  especially  if  the  danger  arises  from  the 
threatened  attack  of  some  carnivorous  animal.  All  kinds 
of  animals  perceive  motion  much  more  readily  than  they 
do  color  or  form.  An  animal  that  remains  perfectly  mo- 
tionless in  any  kind  of  a  situation  is  more  likely  to  escape 
observation  than  if  a  slight  movement  is  made.  Nothing 
else  will  keep  an  animal  so  still  as  a  paralysis,  and  fear 
seems  to  be  expressed  by  a  special  kind.  In  man,  it  is 
probable  that  this  form  of  expression  was  formerly  more 
advantageous  than  it  is  at  present.  Hence  it  was  fixed  by 
heredity  in  the  organization  of  the  nervous  system,  and 
persists  as  a  kind  of  vestigial  characteristic  whose  useful- 
ness has  largely  disappeared. 

We  see,  then,  what  is  meant  by  an  advantageous  expres- 
sion of  feeling.  In  the  instances  cited,  the  advantage 
arises  from  the  expression,  but  the  feeling  itself  is  advan- 
tageous to  the  individual.  By  the  feeling  the  man  is  led  to 
engage  in  some  action  which,  although  it  can  scarcely  be 
called  an  expression,  is  directed  by  the  intelligent  judg- 
ment and  leads  to  escape  from  danger,  even  though  the 
method  of  escape  has  not  resulted  from  the  undirected 
overflow  of  the  nervous  energy  out  of  the  feeling  center. 
The  intelligent  action  indicates  plasticity  of  nervous  struc- 
ture and  involves  attention.  Feeling  expression  implies 
more  or  less  fixity  of  nervous  structure,  and  does  not  de- 
mand voluntary  attention. 

Many  expressions  of  feeling  that  consist  of  glandular 
activity  are  advantageous.  Not  only  can  we  discover  a 
distinct  advantage  in  the  copious  flow  of  tears  in  situa- 
tions that  produce  painful  feelings  in  the  eyes,  and  an  ad- 
vantage in  the  secretion  of  the  saliva  when  we  contemplate 
food,  but  it  has  been  demonstrated  that  in  case  of  fear  and 


78  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

anger,  certain  glands,  such  as  the  adrenal  glands,  produce 
a  secretion  that  is  favorable  to  a  stronger  contraction  of 
the  muscles,  enabling  the  person  to  fight  more  vigorously 
or  to  exert  more  muscular  force  in  running  away.  It  is 
probable  that  many  expressions  of  feeling  for  which  we 
can  at  present  discover  no  use,  did  in  times  past  have  some 
function  appropriate  to  situations  that  no  longer  arise. 
Hence  they  are  vestigial  functions,  the  key  to  whose  ex- 
planation has  been  lost. 

But  there  remains  a  large  class  of  expressions  that  we 
are  compelled  to  admit  have  no  function  at  present,  and 
certainly  can  have  been  of  no  advantage  in  any  situation 
that  we  can  conceive  in  the  past.  How  shall  we  explain 
them  ?  The  suggestion  occurs  at  once,  since  we  find  so  many 
expressions  that  are  advantageous,  may  not  all  expres- 
sions have  had  some  use  some  time  in  the  life  history  of 
the  race?  Mr.  Darwin  has  stated  a  principle  of  anti- 
thesis, to  which  he  attributed  a  more  or  less  advantageous 
function,  but  it  may  be  discarded  completely  as  an  ex- 
planation, and  all  expressions  attributed  to  it  placed  in  the 
unexplained  class. 

To  attribute  all  expressions  to  the  class  that  are  de- 
scribed as  advantageous,  whether  their  present  advantage 
is  recognized  or  not,  would  be  to  assume  that  the  course  of 
development  in  expression  was  from  the  advantageous  to 
the  useless.  The  course  of  development  has  probably  been 
exactly  the  other  way.  The  resistance  in  the  brain  centers 
originally  resulted  in  the  overflow  of  the  nervous  energy 
into  many  expression  centers  indifferently,  or  into  those 
centers  offering  the  least  resistance  to  entrance,  and  this 
differentiation  of  resistance  was  determined  by  causes  so 
obscure  that  we  may  call  it  fortuitous.  Many  movements 
probably  were  expressive  of  the  same  feeling,  just  as  at 
present  intense  feeling  will  manifest  itself  in  many  move- 
ments or  in  the  contraction  of  many  muscles.  Some  of  these 
fortuitous   movements   proved   advantageous,   and  were 


THE   EXPRESSION   OP   PEELING  79 

I 

selected  and  preserved,  displacing  as  a  principal  expres- 
sion all  the  others.  Hence  we  recognize  them  today  as  the 
proper  expression  for  the  particular  feeling.  But  it  will 
not  do  to  assume  that  a  single  movement  constitutes  the 
expression  and  no  other  movement  could  possibly  do  so. 
Not  only  such  feelings  as  fear  have  more  than  one  T^ell 
recognized  expression,  but  when  we  take  into  account  the 
number  of  muscles  that  move,  and  the  number  of  glands 
whose  secretion  is  modified  in  connection  with  a  strong 
feeling,  we  shall  see  tliat  there  are  many  movements  that 
may  be  called  the  expression  of  a  single  feeling,  and  that 
every  feeling,  particularly  if  it  becomes  intense,  may  have 
numerous  expressions. 

Synopsis. 

1 — The  expression  of  feeling  is  some  kind  of  muscular 
or  glandular  activity  which  accompanies  the  feeling,  and 
may  he  regarded  as  an  evidence  that  such  feeling  is  experi- 
enced. Inhibition  of  the  activity  of  a  muscle  or  gland  may 
sometimes  constitute  an  expression  of  feeling. 

2 — The  expression  is  caused  ly  the  overflow  of  a  nervous 
impulse  out  of  the  feeling  center  into  the  expression  cen- 
ter. This  overflow  of  the  nervous  energy  is  caused  hy  the 
resistance  encountered. 

3 — Many  forms  of  expression  are  advantageous,  hut 
many  others  are  fortuitous. 


Chapter  VI. 
THE   PROPERTIES   OF   FEELING. 

Feelings  differ  from  each  other  in  several  respects,  and 
the  means  by  which  we  distinguish  them  we  may  call  their 
properties.  We  may  discover  at  least  three  properties  of 
feelings  by  means  of  which  they  may  be  discriminated 
from  each  other. 

Feelings  differ  from  each  other  in  their  specific  charac- 
ter, by  which  we  mean  that  they  are  of  different  kinds.  We 
may  define  the  specific  character  of  feeling  by  saying  it  is 
that  property  of  feeling  which  we  express  by  giving  feel- 
ings difl'erent  names.  We  do  not  mistake  a  feeling  of  fear 
for  a  feeling  of  pity,  and  a  feeling  of  anger  is  specifically 
different  from  a  feeling  of  love.  While  the  long  list  of  feel- 
ings that  are  described  in  books  on  psychology  is  of  little 
value,  and  chiefly  serviceable  in  a  rhetorical  way,  no  one 
will  deny  that  feelings  do  differ  specifically  and  that  there 
may  be  many  different  kinds.  No  real  explanation  of  the 
specific  dift'erence  in  feelings  is  given  by  any  theory  except 
the  James  theory,  which  asserts  that  the  particular  kind 
of  feeling  that  is  experienced  depends  upon  the  muscle 
which  contracts  to  produce  the  movement  called  the  ex- 
pression, and  whose  contraction  gives  rise  to  the  feeling. 
No  theory  of  feeling  can  be  considered  satisfactory  that 
does  not  explain  why  feelings  differ  in  specific  character. 

It  is  impossible  for  us  to  understand  the  difference  be- 
tween feelings  unless  we  recognize  that  no  feeling  is  ever 
experienced  except  in  conjunction  with  some  intellectual 
process.  That  intellectual  process  is  always  a  perception, 
either  of  some  object  or  of  a  relation.    Usually  the  feelings 

81 


82  THE   FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

are  treated  as  if  they  were  independent  experiences,  having 
only  a  remote  relation  to  the  intellectual  processes.  It  is 
this  failure  of  the  new  psychology  in  treating  the  feelings 
by  its  physiological  and  experimental  methods  to  conceive 
the  true  relation  between  the  feeling  and  the  intellectual 
processes,  that  has  rendered  at  all  tolerable  the  theory  that 
all  kinds  of  pain  are  intellectual  sensations.  Such  a  de- 
termination of  pain  seems  to  be  the  first  step  in  an  attempt 
to  reduce  all  feeling  processes  to  an  intellectual  basis.  It 
is  in  this  field  that  we  are  most  in  need  of  some  satisfactory 
theory  of  feeling.  Much  energy  has  already  been  unprofit- 
ably  expended  in  consequence  of  the  lack  of  such  a  theory, 
and  the  more  promptly  it  is  supplied,  the  better. 

Feelings  are  not  causally  related  to  intellectual  proc- 
esses, but  are  most  intimately  associated  with  them.  The 
nature  of  the  relation  can  best  be  conceived  in  physio- 
logical terms.  No  one  will  question  the  statement  that 
whenever  an  intellectual  process  is  experienced,  a  nervous 
impulse  passes  through  some  combination  of  cells  in  the 
brain.  The  process  of  transmission  constitutes  the  psysio- 
logical  concomitant  of  the  intellectual  process,  and  the 
greater  the  amount  of  nervous  energy  that  goes  through 
the  brain  center,  the  greater  will  be  the  intellectual  work 
accomplished.  When  an  intellectual  process  of  one  kind 
is  experienced,  one  combination  of  brain  cells  is  traversed : 
and  whenever  a  different  intellectual  process  is  experi- 
enced, a  nervous  impulse  passes  through  a  different  com- 
bination of  brain  cells.  If  an  object  is  seen,  some  combi- 
nation of  cells  in  the  occipital  lobe  is  traversed,  while  if  a 
sound  is  heard,  a  nervous  impulse  passes  through  some 
combination  of  cells  in  the  temporal  lobe.  The  particular 
kind  of  intellectual  process  that  is  experienced  depends 
upon,  or  is  determined  by,  the  particular  combination  of 
cells  through  which  the  impulse  is  transmitted.  We  are 
not  able  to  state  the  reason  for  the  association  of  sight 


THE  PROPERTIES  OF  FEELING  83 

and  hearing  functions  with  particular  brain  centers,  but 
these  facts  will  be  admitted  by  nearly  all  psychologists. 

We  have  seen  that  under  proper  conditions,  resistance 
is  experienced  in  a  brain  center  whenever  an  impulse  of 
sufficient  strength  is  transmitted  through  it.  Whenever 
an  impulse  passes  through  some  combination  of  cells  and 
accompanies  the  perception  of  a  raging  lion,  or  an  en- 
raged bull,  or  some  other  dangerous  animal,  if  the 
perception  is  clear,  the  nervous  impulse  strong,  and  the 
resistance  great  enough,  we  experience  the  feeling  of 
fear.  If  the  impulse  passes  through  some  combination  of 
cells  accompanying  the  perception  of  a  starving  mother 
with  her  family  of  little  children,  if  the  impulse  is  strong, 
the  perception  clear,  and  the  resistance  great  enough,  we 
experience  the  feeling  of  pity.  The  difference  in  the  thiugs 
that  are  seen  accounts  for  the  difference  in  the  feelings 
experienced.  Resistance  encountered  in  one  combination 
of  brain  cells  accompanies  one  kind  of  feeling,  while  re- 
sistance encountered  in  another  combination  accompanies 
a  different  kind.  Hence  we  may  say  that  the  specific  dif- 
ference in  feelings  depends  upon  the  brain  center  in  which 
the  resistance  is  encountered. 

It  ought  to  be  clearly  understood  what  we  mean  by  a 
brain  center  when  we  assert  that  the  particular  feeling 
depends  upon  the  brain  center  in  which  the  resistance  is 
encountered.  The  doctrine  of  localization  of  function 
teaches  that  particular  localities  in  the  brain  are  devoted 
to  the  transmission  of  impulses  that  accompany  particular 
mental  processes.  Thus  all  the  cells  that  are  traversed 
by  impulses  when  we  experience  a  sight  sensation,  lie  in 
the  occipital  lobe.  The  hearing  center,  the  taste  center, 
the  smell  center,  and  a  few  others  have  been  quite  definitely 
determined,  and  we  may  rely  rather  confidently  upon  the 
accuracy  of  the  determination.  When  the  word  center  is 
used  in  this  connection,  it  is  understood  to  mean  some 


84  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

rather  definitely  circumscribed  locality  in  the  brain  sepa- 
rated by  more  or  less  clearly  distinguished  boundaries. 

Only  the  simplest  mental  processes  can  accompany  im- 
pulses that  traverse  cells  situated  in  such  definitely  cir- 
cumscribed localities.  Almost  any  kind  of  a  perception 
will  involve  several  or  many  sensations,  each  sensation  de- 
manding the  transmission  of  a  nervous  impulse  through 
one  such  clearly  circumscribed  center,  and  the  entire  num- 
ber of  circumscribed  localities  must  be  traversed  by  the 
same  impulse.  Hence  it  is  that  the  center,  or  combina- 
tion of  cells  that  is  traversed  by  an  impulse  vi^hen  we  per- 
ceive an  apple  or  a  landscape,  or  read  a  book,  or  go 
through  a  reasoning  process,  will  consist  of  cells  in  various 
parts  of  the  brain,  separated,  no  doubt,  in  many  cases,  by 
its  full  length  and  width.  It  is  this  entire  combination, 
which  is  not  defined  by  geographical  boundaries,  but  de- 
limited only  by  the  nervous  impulse  itself,  that  we  must 
consider  the  brain  center.  Although  the  cells  that  com- 
pose it  may  be  widely  scattered,  the  one  impulse  that  tra- 
verses the  entire  combination  suflSciently  defines  it,  and 
permits  us  to  speak  of  it  as  one  brain  center. 

It  must  be  understood,  also,  that  the  same  cell  or  many 
cells  may  enter  as  constituent  parts  in  several  or  many 
brain  centers  at  different  times.  At  one  time,  one  cell 
may  constitute  a  portion  of  one  brain  center,  and  at  an- 
other it  may  be  traversed  by  an  impulse  originating  in  a 
different  place,  entering  the  cell  from  a  different  direction 
and  combining  by  means  of  the  impulse  with  a  totally  dif- 
ferent group  of  cells  to  constitute  another  brain  center. 
It  is  some  such  conception  as  this  that  we  must  entertain 
when  we  use  the  word  brain  center  in  this  connection. 
With  this  understanding  of  the  use  of  the  word,  we  may 
readily  accept  the  statement  that  the  specific  difference 
among  feelings  depends  upon  the  brain  centers  in  which 
the  resistance  is  encountered. 

We  shall  avoid,  also,  the  implication  that  might  other- 


THE   PROPERTIES   OF   FEELING  85 

wise  be  obtained  from  the  above  statement,  that  there  is  a 
brain  center  for  fear  and  another  for  pity,  one  for  hate 
and  another  for  anger.  Still  more  inaccurate  are  the 
figures  given  in  some  of  our  text  books  on  physiology  that 
indicate  a  center  for  feeling  just  behind  the  motor  area. 
No  such  definite  location  of  feeling  can  be  made.  Feeling 
is  not  localized  in  any  one  place,  but  wherever  a  nervous 
impulse  traverses  a  brain  center  and  encounters  resistance, 
there  we  have  the  place  in  which  exists  the  concomitant 
of  feeling.  There  is  not  one  center  for  fear  and  another 
for  veneration  and  another  for  love.  To  assume  some- 
thing of  this  kind  would  be  to  repeat,  without  any  justifi- 
cation for  it,  the  errors  of  the  phrenologists.  There  are 
just  as  many  brain  centers,  or  combinations  of  brain 
cells  in  which  resistance  will  accompany  the  feeling  of 
fear  as  there  are  things  of  which  we  may  be  afraid.  There 
may  be  a  thousand  or  ten  thousand  different  combinations, 
resistance  in  any  one  of  which  will  be  the  concomitant  of 
the  feeling  of  fear.  There  are  just  as  many  centers  whose 
resistance  will  accompany  the  feeling  of  shame  as  there 
are  things  of  which  we  may  be  ashamed.  It  is  some  con- 
ception such  as  this  that  Hoffding  has  in  mind  when  he 
employs  the  expression  that  "The  specific  differences  be- 
tween feelings  we  must  try  to  explain  by  means  of  the 
different  cognitive  elements  that  may  be  combined  with 
them.''    {Psychology,  p.  222). 

This  leads  us  to  another  observation.  As  numerous  as 
are  the  different  kinds  of  feelings,  (Titchener  suggests  a 
list  of  more  than  a  hundred)  the  number  of  intellectual 
processes  must  be  indefinitely  greater.  This  must  be  true, 
not  only  because  of  the  fact  that  different  intellectual 
processes  are  accompanied  by  the  transmission  of  impulses 
through  brain  centers  whose  resistance  accompanies  the 
same  kind  of  feeling,  but  because  unless  the  resistance 
reaches  a  certain  minimum  which  is  diflScult  of  determina- 
tion, no  feeling  is  experienced,  while  the  intellectual  proc- 


86  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

esses  may  be  very  clear.  Many  intellectual  processes  are 
accompanied  by  no  feeling. 

While  there  are  different  kinds  of  feelings,  they  are  not 
very  sharply  discriminated,  and  lists  that  are  made  have 
little  value.  Under  one  name  will  be  grouped  many  kinds 
of  feelings,  some  quite  sharply  distinguished  from  others. 
Mr.  Spencer  has  shown  how  exceedingly  complex  is  the 
feeling  of  love,  or,  at  least,  the  cognitive  elements  that 
accompany  it  (Psychology,  I,  487.)  Mr.  Spencer  describes 
merely  conjugal  love,  or  the  kind  of  love  that  a  young  man 
bears  for  a  prospective  wife,  and  the  word  love  is  applied 
to  many  other  kinds  of  feelings.  We  can  readily  under- 
stand that  any  variation  in  the  number  of  cells  and  cen- 
ters that  are  traversed  by  the  impulse  will  correspond  to 
a  variation  in  the  specific  character  of  feeling.  So  while 
there  are  broad,  general  distinctions  between  feelings,  it 
is  comparatively  useless  to  undertake  to  discriminate  the 
different  kinds  with  nicety  and  sharpness.  Much  energy 
may  be  unprofitably  expended  in  drawing  distinctions 
between  such  feelings  as  grief,  care,  melancholy,  wretched- 
ness, anxiety,  dejection,  gloom,  depression.  These  names 
for  feelings  are  taken  from  one  of  our  most  popular  ele- 
mentary treatises  upon  the  subject. 

It  will  be  understood  that  one  feeling  will  be  specifically 
related  to  another  in  exactly  the  proportion  that  the  num- 
ber of  cells  in  the  center  that  offers  resistance  are  identi- 
cal with  those  in  the  combination  whose  resistance  accom- 
panies the  second  feeling.  Hence  we  shall  have  all  kinds 
of  variations  and  all  degrees  of  relationship  among  the 
feelings.  A  feeling  of  one  kind  may  change  to  a  feeling 
of  another  kind,  even  when  we  contemplate  the  same  ob- 
ject. And  this  is  not  because  of  any  difference  in  "atti- 
tude,''  whatever  that  may  mean,  but  because  of  the  change 
in  the  cells  through  which  the  nervous  impulse  is  passing. 
A  person  who  has  never  seen  nor  heard  of  a  rattlesnake, 
and  sees  one  for  the  first  time,  is  not  in  the  least  afraid 


THE  PROPERTIES  OF  FEELING  87 

of  it.  The  cells  through  which  the  nervous  impulse  is  pass- 
ing are  not  those  that  have  been  associated  with  the  feel- 
ing of  fear.  But  a  person  who  knows  what  a  rattlesnake 
can  do,  when  he  perceives  a  rattlesnake,  sees  also  his  pos- 
sible death,  the  suffering  that  may  accompany  the  bite, 
the  act  of  striking  which  the  rattle  precedes — all  of  these 
different  combinations  are  traversed  by  the  same  impulse, 
and  the  resistance  encountered  in  this  entire  combination 
accompanies  a  feeling  of  a  very  different  kind  from  that 
which  accompanies  the  resistance  in  the  combination 
which  gives  merely  a  visual  image  of  the  snake. 

Great  intensity  of  fear  may  be  experienced  by  one  who 
knows  all  the  details  about  a  rattlesnake  bite.  But  if  the 
person  becomes  familiar  with  rattlesnakes,  has  killed  many 
of  them  and  escaped  many  more,  if  rattlesnakes  come  to 
constitute  an  ever  present  element  in  the  perceivable  sur- 
roundings of  the  person,  the  feeling  undergoes  another 
change,  and  very  little  fear  may  be  experienced.  Yet  in 
all  three  of  these  cases,  the  supposition  is  that  the  same 
object  is  perceived,  while  really,  very  different  combina- 
tions of  cells  are  traversed  by  the  impulse. 

Feelings  differ  from  each  other  in  still  another  respect. 
Not  only  is  there  a  specific  difference  in  feelings,  but  there 
is  a  difference  in  intensity.  We  may  define  intensity  by 
saying  that  it  is  that  property  of  feeling  which  we  describe 
by  saying  that  feelings  are  strong  or  weak.  There  are 
strong  feelings  and  weak  feelings.  We  may  have  a  weak 
feeling  of  anger  or  a  strong  feeling  of  anger.  We  may  pity 
a  person  much  or  little.  But  the  feelings  are  not  neces- 
sarily of  the  same  specific  character  in  order  to  be  de- 
scribed as  strong  or  weak.  We  may  have  a  strong  feeling 
of  love  and  a  weak  feeling  of  contempt.  Strong  and  weak 
are  always  relative  terms,  and  we  may  designate  by  them 
indefinite  degrees  of  intensity  which  every  one  will  recog- 
nize as  having  been  experienced. 

How  shall  we  account  for  this  difference  in  intensity? 


88  THE   FEELINGS  OF  MAN 

We  can  readily  understand  that  if  resistance  encountered 
in  the  brain  center  is  the  inevitable  concomitant  of  feel- 
ing, the  greater  the  resistance  is,  the  more  intense  will  be 
the  feeling ;  and  the  less  the  resistance,  the  weaker  it  will 
be.  We  have  in  the  fact  of  resistance  an  explanation  of 
the  various  and  varying  intensity  of  feeling. 

Whatever  modifies  resistance  will  by  the  same  process 
modify  feeling.  We  have  in  this  fact  an  explanation  of 
the  decrease  of  feeling  in  an  habitual  experience.  No  fact 
is  better  demonstrated  in  physiology  than  that  habit  tends 
to  diminish  resistance,  and  this  fact  is  generally  recog- 
nized under  the  name  of  the  law  of  neural  habit.  We  have 
already  seen  in  Chapter  II  that  habit,  or  practice,  dimin- 
ishes reaction  time,  and  that  the  limit  toward  which  prac- 
tice tends  to  diminish  it,  is  that  of  a  reflex  act.  But  no 
feeling  accompanies  a  reflex,  so  we  can  readily  under- 
stand that  habit,  repetition,  and  practice,  may  so  diminish 
resistance  that  all  feeling  may  disappear  from  the  act. 

We  have  in  this  explanation  of  intensity,  an  explana- 
tion also  of  the  fact  that  a  thing,  incident,  occurrence,  or 
event  that  is  observed  directly,  is  likely  to  be  accompanied 
by  a  feeling  of  greater  intensity  than  is  one  that  is  merely 
read  about.  If  we  should  see  a  man  run  over  by  a  street 
car  and  mangled  out  of  all  resemblance  to  humanity,  the 
feeling  accompanying  such  a  perception  would  be  so  strong 
that  we  could  characterize  it  only  as  a  feeling  of  horror. 
But  if  we  merely  read  about  it  in  the  morning  papers, 
while  we  may  be  as  certainly  assured  of  the  correctness 
of  the  account  as  if  we  had  been  present  and  had  witnessed 
it,  the  feeling  that  we  experience  is  very  much  less  intense. 
Now  why  should  the  feeling  be  less  intense  in  one  case 
than  in  the  other?  The  facts  are  the  same,  our  knowledge 
of  them  is  as  clear  in  one  case  as  in  the  other,  the  truth 
is  not  called  into  question  in  either  instance,  but  the  in- 
tensity of  the  accompanying  feeling  differs  widely  in  the 
two  cases. 


THE   PROPEETIES   OP   FEELING  89 

For  an  explanation  of  the  difference  we  shall  have  to  go 
back  to  a  previous  statement,  that  a  peripherally  initiated 
impulse  is  always  stronger  than  a  centrally  initiated  one. 
It  has  been  asserted  that  every  impulse  has  its  origin  in 
some  peripheral  disturbance,  but  it  is  only  by  an  improper 
use  of  the  term  that  such  a  proposition  can  be  maintained. 
The  image  of  the  street-car  accident  that  is  read  about  is 
initiated  by  the  sensation  accompanying  the  impulse 
started  in  the  retina  by  the  words  on  the  page,  but  the 
image  of  the  accident  that  is  aroused  by  reading  the  words 
is  the  concomitant  of  a  centrally  initiated  impulse.  So  a 
thing  that  is  remembered  is  always  the  concomitant  of  a 
centrally  initiated  impulse,  as  is  a  thing  that  is  merely 
imagined. 

A  peripherally  initiated  impulse  is  always  stronger 
than  a  centrally  initiated  one,  except  in  the  very  rare  cases 
of  hallucination.  The  difference  between  a  percept  and  an 
idea  depends  upon  this  difference  in  strength  of  impulse. 
The  only  way  we  have  of  distinguishing  an  idea  from  a  per- 
cept is  by  the  vividness  of  the  mental  process,  which  has  its 
concomitant  in  the  strength  of  the  nervous  impulse. 

In  the  case  of  our  personal  observation  of  the  accident 
on  the  street-car  line,  we  have  the  whole  situation  pre- 
sented to  us  by  means  of  peripherally  initiated  impulses, 
which  are  strong,  and  the  percept  is  vivid,  the  accompany- 
ing impulses  meeting  with  much  resistance.  But  in  case 
of  merely  reading  the  account,  the  only  peripherally  initi- 
ated impulses  are  those  that  enable  us  to  perceive  the 
printed  letters  on  the  page,  and  the  scene  of  the  accident 
is  pictured  by  means  of  centrally  initiated  impulses  which 
seldom  approximate  the  intensity,  or  encounter  the  same 
degree  of  resistance  as  do  the  peripherally  initiated  im- 
pulses. A  dish  of  ice  cream  is  much  more  satisfying  to  the 
taste  than  is  one  that  is  merely  thought  about,  and  the 
reason  is  similar.  It  is  very  difficult  to  reinstate  a  feeling, 
or  to  experience  by  reinstating  the  intellectual  process,  an 


90  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

intensity  of  feeling  that  even  approximates  that  of  the 
original  experience. 

But  let  us  suppose  that  we  should  see  a  man  run  over 
every  day  by  the  street  car,  or  that  almost  every  hour  in 
the  day  some  occurrence  of  this  kind  should  occur  within 
our  observation.  It  would  not  be  very  long  until  we  should 
look  upon  it  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  rather  express 
astonishment  when  some  person  less  accustomed  to  such  a 
gruesome  sight  might  reprove  us  for  being  callous  and 
hard-hearted.  The  degree  of  resistance  and  the  intensity 
of  feeling  accompanying  the  first  experience  would  have 
become  lessened  by  practice,  custom,  and  habit.  Some- 
thing of  this  kind  must  be  considered  to  occur  in  case  of 
soldiers  who  have  participated  in  many  battles.  Physi- 
cians undergo  the  same  kind  of  experience  in  their  deal- 
ings with  examples  of  suffering,  and  the  same  kind  of  a 
change  is  observed  in  the  case  of  persons  whose  duty  it  is 
to  slaughter  animals  for  market. 

In  our  discussion  of  the  expression  of  feeling,  but  little 
reference  was  made  to  the  fact  that  some  expressions  are 
much  more  vigorous  than  others.  We  can  usually  judge 
of  the  inten^sity  of  feeling  by  the  intensity  and  vigor  of  the 
expression.  The  feeling  and  the  expression  have  a  direct 
relation  to  each  other.  The  more  intense  the  feeling  the 
more  vigorous  the  expression  will  be.  This  that  is  observed 
might  be  inferred  logically  from  the  facts  of  resistance. 
The  greater  the  resistance  the  more  intense  the  feeling 
will  be.  The  greater  the  resistance,  the  stronger  will  be 
the  tendency  for  the  impulse  to  spread  out  into  other  cen- 
ters, especially  the  motor  centers.  The  portion  of  the  cur- 
rent that  escapes  from  the  feeling  center  will  overflow  into 
the  expression  centers,  distributing  itself  into  all  of  them 
in  a  ratio  inversely  proportional  to  the  resistance  encoun- 
tered in  passing  into  the  different  centers.  Thus  it  will 
be  seen  that  we  have  an  explanation  of  the  fact  that  in 
cases  of  strong  feeling,  at  least,  there  is  not  merely  one 


THE   PROPERTIES  OF   FEELING  91 

expression  center,  but,  while  the  larger  part  of  the  impulse 
may  flow  over  into  one  expression  center,  many  other  cen- 
ters receive  some  portion  of  it  and  some  evidence  of  the 
expression  of  the  feeling  may  be  observed  in  many  centers. 
In  fact,  in  cases  of  very  strong  feeling,  where  a  great  im- 
pulse is  seeking  to  go  through  a  center  and  is  meeting  with 
resistance,  some  portion  of  the  current  overflows  into  al- 
most every  motor  center  and  perhaps  into  almost  every 
glandular  center.  Thus,  in  cases  of  strong  feeling,  almost 
every  muscle  in  the  body,  including  the  visceral  and  deep- 
seated  muscles,  may  manifest  some  trace  at  least  of  the 
presence  of  a  very  strong  current. 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  above  discussion,  together  with 
the  explanation  of  what  is  meant  by  resistance,  (Chapter 
IV,  p.  47)  that  the  amount  of  resistance  and  the  intensity 
of  feeling  depend  upon  two  factors:  first,  the  nature  of 
the  nervous  arc,  the  brain  center  itself  in  which  the  resist- 
ance is  encountered ;  second,  the  amount  of  nervous  energy 
which  is  transmitted  through  the  brain  center.  If  the 
nervous  arc,  or  the  brain  center,  is  such  as  to  occasion 
much  resistance  in  itself,  the  feeling  will  be  strong  with  a 
given  amount  of  nervous  energy.  This  condition  will  pre- 
vail if  the  nervous  arc  has  been  traversed  but  a  few  times, 
if  the  cells  are  more  or  less  undeveloped,  or  if  there  is  a 
pathological  condition  such  as  would  be  symptomized  by 
inflammation.  As  those  conditions  are  modified,  the  cells 
that  make  up  the  brain  center  become  more  fully  devel- 
oped, the  dendrites  longer,  the  distances  between  their 
terminations  shorter,  the  cells  become  habituated  to  trans- 
mitting impulses,  or  the  inflammatory  condition  decreased, 
the  resistance  will  diminish,  the  feeling  will  become  less 
and  tend  to  disappear. 

But  none  of  these  resistent  conditions  will  result  in 
very  much  feeling  unless  there  is  a  nervous  impulse  of  suf- 
ficient strength.  If  the  impulse  becomes  stronger,  the 
brain  center  remaining  the  same,  the  resistance  and  the 


92  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

feeling  will  increase.  If  the  amount  of  nervous  energy 
generated  be  diminished  by  narcotics,  disease,  impure  air, 
starvation,  or  lack  of  blood  supply,  the  resulting  feeling 
will  be  decreased  as  the  resistance  is  decreased.  Intensity 
of  feeling  depends  upon  these  two  factors  that  are  always 
involved  in  making  any  estimate  of  the  amount  of  resist- 
ance. 

Besides  these  factors,  the  intensity  of  feeling  and  the 
degree  of  resistance  may  be  increased  or  decreased,  al- 
though both  the  brain  center  and  the  amount  of  nervous 
energy  remain  the  same,  by  a  process  of  attention,  whose 
mechanism  is  to  be  discussed  in  a  later  chapter. 

A  third  characteristic  of  feeling  is  tone.  By  tone  of 
feeling  we  mean  its  painful  or  pleasurable  character.  This 
quality  is  of  so  much  importance  in  the  life  of  the  indi- 
vidual that  many  writers  on  psychology  have  regarded 
pleasure  and  pain  as  constituting  the  feeling  itself.  How- 
ever, such  writers  never  undertake  to  make  a  classifica- 
tion of  feelings  upon  this  basis,  nor  to  describe  the  specific 
differences  in  feelings  that  are  expressed  by  the  different 
names  applied  to  the  feeling  processes,  without  taking  into 
consideration  other  things  than  pleasure  and  pain.  No 
one  fails  to  recognize  that  different  feelings  have  different 
intensities,  although  the  intensity  might  be  described  as 
an  intensity  of  pleasure  or  pain.  Altogether,  the  state- 
ment of  Eibot  is  justified  when  he  says  that  "It  is  therefore 
an  error,  although  common  to  many  psychologists,  to  con- 
sider pleasure  and  pain  as  fundamental  elements  of  the 
affective  life.  They  are  only  marks.  The  foundation  is 
elsewhere.  What  would  be  said  of  a  doctor  who  confused 
the  symptoms  of  a  disease  with  its  essential  nature." 
{Psychology  of  the  Emotions^  p.  32.) 

Another  group  of  writers  apply  the  term  tone  to  sensa- 
tion, and  speak  of  pleasure  and  pain  as  the  tone  of  the 
sensation  instead  of  the  tone  of  the  feeling.  In  many 
cases  sensation  as  an  intellectual  process  is  not  discrimi- 


THE  PROPERTIES  OP  FEELING  ^6 

nated  from  feeling,  but  in  other  cases  it  is,  and  pain  and 
pleasure  are  considered  as  the  characteristic  of  the  intel- 
lectual process.  One  may  very  readily  be  pardoned  for 
confusing  pain  and  pleasure  with  the  intellectual  process 
in  the  absence  of  any  satisfactory  theory  of  the  relation 
between  feeling  and  the  intellectual  process  that  accom- 
panies it,  but  it  is  necessary  to  discriminate  the  two,  and 
there  is  no  justification  in  the  present  state  of  psycho- 
logical knowledge  for  failing  to  make  the  distinction.  It 
appears  that  the  clearest  way  in  which  to  describe  the  rela- 
tion is  to  figure  it  in  terms  of  a  physiological  process.  The 
difiiculty  of  establishing  such  an  understandable  hypothe- 
sis is  sufficient  explanation  for  much  of  the  obscure  and 
indefinite  thinking  upon  this  subject.  If  we  consider  the 
impulse  that  passes  through  the  brain  center  as  the  con- 
comitant of  sensation,  and  the  resistance  that  stops  out 
part  of  the  nervous  energy  as  the  concomitant  of  feeling, 
we  shall  have  a  means  of  clearly  discriminating  the  two, 
and  seeing  the  relations  that  they  hold  to  each  other.  We 
shall  then  see  that  pain  and  pleasure  are  properties,  not 
of  the  intellectual  sensation,  depending  upon  the  amount 
of  nervous  energy  that  goes  through  the  brain  center,  but 
of  the  feeling,  which  depends  upon  the  degree  of  resistance, 
and  varying  with  the  amount  of  nervous  energy  that  is 
stopped  out  and  destroyed  in  the  transmission. 

It  is  scarcely  advisable  to  make  the  distinction  between 
pain  and  unpleasantness  as  some  writers  do.  It  is  the 
same  kind  of  distinction  as  that  which  is  drawn  between 
physical  feeling  and  mental  feeling,  between  sensation  and 
reasoning,  between  affection  and  emotion.  Physical  pain 
may  differ  from  mental  pain,  but  this  is  merely  a  specific 
difference  depending  upon  the  difference  in  brain  centers 
in  which  the  resistance  is  encountered.  Also,  physical 
pain  is  usually  more  intense  than  is  mental  pain,  since  in 
the  activity  of  a  sense  organ,  which  is  always  employed  as 
an  illustration  of  physical  pain,  the  peripherally  initiated 


94  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

nervous  impulse  is  stronger,  while  in  the  impulse  that 
accompanies  mental  pain,  there  is  a  much  larger  pro- 
portion of  the  centrally  initiated  energy.  As  a  usual 
thing,  the  physical  pain,  that  is  so  available  for  illustra- 
tion, is  more  intense  and  less  massive.  These  two  qualities 
have  their  correlates  in  the  fact  that  the  nervous  impulse 
in  case  of  physical  pain  is  peripherally  initiated,  and  that 
the  brain  center  through  which  it  passes  is  likely  to  be 
composed  of  a  smaller  number  of  cells.  However,  the  tone 
is  the  same,  no  matter  how  great  the  specific  difference  in 
the  feelings  may  be. 

Pain  and  pleasure  are  not  specifically  different  from 
each  other  but  differ  rather  quantitatively  than  qualita- 
tively. Pleasure  may  pass  into  pain,  and  pain  into  pleas- 
ure, or,  perhaps  for  the  sake  of  accuracy,  we  ought  to  say 
that  a  feeling  of  a  painful  tone  may  pass  into  a  feeling  of 
the  same  specific  character  having  a  pleasurable  tone.  The 
tone  of  the  feeling  may  change  without  there  being  any 
change  in  the  specific  character.  We  may  experience  a 
feeling  of  a  painful  tone  when  our  hands  are  cold.  When 
we  come  near  a  hot  stove,  the  feeling  of  warmth  has  a 
pleasurable  tone.  As  our  hands  become  warmer,  the  feel- 
ing may  change  to  one  of  a  painful  tone.  It  is  the  same 
feeling,  accompanying  the  sensation  of  warmth,  and  we 
may  call  the  feeling  by  the  same  name,  warmth,  if  we  do 
not  confuse  the  feeling  with  the  sensation,  in  consequence 
of  applying  the  same  name  to  both.  The  odor  of  flowers  is 
pleasant,  but  if  the  perfume  is  intensified,  the  accompany- 
ing feeling  will,  with  nearly  any  odor,  become  painful. 

Here  we  have  an  example  of  a  general  law  of  feeling  tone. 
Nearly  any  feeling  of  a  moderate  degree  of  intensity  has  a 
plasurable  tone,  but  the  same  feeling  with  a  greater  degree 
of  intensity  will  have  a  painful  tone.  In  general,  the  tone 
of  the  feeling  depends  upon  its  intensity.  This  is  a  matter 
of  direct  observation,  and  corroborates  our  theory  of  the 


THE   PROPERTIES   OF   FEELING  95 

resistance  being  the  concomitant  of  feeling.  A  few  pos- 
sible exceptions  to  the  general  law  will  be  noticed  later. 

Up  to  a  certain  point,  the  greater  the  intensity,  the  more 
pleasant  the  tone;  and  beyond  that  point  an  increase  in 
intensity  increases  the  pain.  We  can  understand  that  by 
varying  the  intensity  we  may  cause  a  feeling  having  a 
pleasant  tone  to  change  to  one  having  a  painful  tone,  and 
conversely  by  varying  the  resistance  and  the  intensity  in 
the  opposite  direction,  we  may  cause  a  feeling  having  a 
painful  tone  to  change  to  one  having  a  pleasant  tone. 
Nearly  all  persons  like  sweet  things,  but  food  may  become 
so  sweet  as  to  be  sickening.  The  Heaven  of  eternal  rest 
appeals  only  to  persons  who  labor  hard  every  day. 

A  feeling  having  a  painful  tone  may  change  to  one  hav- 
ing a  pleasant  tone  by  varying  the  resistance,  either 
through  habit,  attention,  or  diminution  of  the  amount  of 
nervous  energy  so  as  to  produce  less  resistance  and  less 
intensity  of  feeling.  Washing  dishes  is  with  many  girls  a 
very  disagreeable  occupation,  as  is  the  weeding  of  the 
onion  bed  to  a  small  boy.  But  by  continued  repetition, 
the  feeling  becomes  diminished  in  consequence  of  the  di- 
minished resistance  incident  to  an  habitual  act,  and  the 
feeling  takes  on  a  pleasant  tone.  Almost  any  occupation 
that  is  pursued  conscientiously  ceases  to  be  painful,  be- 
comes endurable,  and  finally  pleasant.  It  is  not  often  that 
an  occupation  that  is  pleasant  in  the  beginning,  remains 
pleasant  continuously.  It  becomes,  not  painful  perhaps, 
but  rather  monotonous  and  ceases  to  furnish  pleasure. 

There  is  one  phenomenon  of  feeling  that  has  led  many 
persons  to  question  the  validity  of  this  origin  of  the  pain- 
ful tone  of  feeling.  It  is  true  that  the  same  intensity  of 
feeling  may  under  one  kind  of  circumstances  be  pleasur- 
able and  in  another  painful.  The  best  illustrations  occur 
in  cases  of  physical  pain.  When  a  person  has  a  toothache, 
a  certain  degree  of  intensity  is  exceedingly  painful  if  the 
intensity  of  the  ache  is  increasing,  while  exactly  the  same 


96  THE   FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

intensity  will  appear  pleasurable  if  it  is  decreasing.  The 
same  thing  is  true  if  we  place  our  hand  in  water  of  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  temperature.  If  the  hand  is  placed  into  the 
hot  water  from  a  temperature  that  is  less,  the  accompany- 
ing feeling  is  painful,  while  if  it  is  placed  in  it  from  a  tem- 
perature that  is  greater,  the  accompanying  feeling  is  pleas- 
urable. Let  us  suppose  that  the  feeling,  whatever  it  may 
be,  has  increased  from  an  intensity  of  three  to  an  intensity 
of  four.  The  increasing  intensity  is  recognized  as  painful. 
But  if  the  feeling  is  decreasing  from  an  intensity  of  five  to 
an  intensity  of  four,  the  intensity  of  four  is  regarded  as 
pleasurable.  It  will  be  understood  that  we  have  assumed 
the  intensity  of  four  as  the  neutral  point,  or  the  point  of 
indifference,  or  near  it. 

This  is  a  matter  that  has  led  to  the  statement  of  theories 
of  feeling  that  do  not  regard  intensity  as  the  necessary  con- 
dition of  pleasure  and  pain.  It  is  upon  this  series  of  phe- 
nomena that  Meyer's  theory  (See  p.  26)  is  based,  and  it 
explains  them  well.  Let  us  see  how  the  matter  may  be 
explained  by  means  of  the  resistance. 

We  know  that  a  brain  center  is  modified  by  the  impulses 
that  pass  through  it.  It  is  modified  by  many  repetitions 
in  such  a  way  that  a  nervous  impulse  of  the  same  strength 
will  go  through  it  with  less  resistance,  but  it  is  modified 
much  more  promptly  by  a  larger  impulse  than  by  a  smaller 
one.  If  a  very  strong  nervous  impulse  is  passing  through 
the  center,  it  modifies  that  center  very  promptly  so  that  a 
nervous  impulse  of  a  less  degree  of  intensity  will  pass 
through  it  with  little  resistance.  The  resistance  will  vary, 
probably  with  some  function  of  the  strength  of  the  cur- 
rent ;  such  as  the  square,  or  some  higher  power.  So  after 
a  strong  nervous  impulse  has  passed  through,  the  resist- 
ance in  the  center  is  much  diminished.  But  if  the  impulse 
passing  through  has  been  a  weak  one,  the  stronger  impulse 
will  encounter  resistance  greater  according  to  some  func- 
tion of  the  impulse  preceding.    If  the  point  of  intensity 


THE   PROPERTIES  OP   FEELING  97 

is  near  the  critical  point,  the  difference  may  be  such  that 
the  resistance  is  great  enough,  with  the  same  strength  of 
current  in  one  case,  to  accompany  a  pleasurable  feeling, 
and  in  another  to  accompany  a  painful  feeling. 

In  this  discussion  of  the  change  from  a  pleasurable  to 
a  painful  tone,  it  has  been  assumed  that  in  passing  from 
one  to  the  other  a  point  is  reached  at  which  the  tone  can 
be  described  as  neither  pleasurable  nor  painful.  The  feel- 
ing having  the  most  pleasant  tone  is  the  one  having  the 
greatest  intensity  just  before  the  point  of  pain  is  reached ; 
or,  avoiding  circumlocution  and  sacrificing  accuracy  of 
expression  for  the  sake  of  clearness,  we  may  say  that  the 
more  intense  a  feeling  may  be  without  its  becoming  pain- 
ful, the  pleasanter  it  is. 

The  point  at  which  pain  changes  into  pleasure,  or  pleas- 
ure into  pain,  is  called  the  point  of  indifference.  This 
must  be  carefully  distinguished  from  the  point  of  monot- 
ony, at  which  all  feeling,  and  consequently  all  tone,  dis- 
appears. The  failure  to  make  this  discrimination  has  led 
many  writers  on  psychology  to  deny  that  there  is  a  point 
of  indifference.  The  point  of  indifference  is  a  condition 
in  which  there  is  much  resistance  encountered,  and  ac- 
companied by  a  feeling  of  considerable  intensity.  The 
point  of  monotony  is  one  in  which  there  is  little  or  no  re- 
sistance, no  feeling,  consequently  neither  pain  nor  pleas- 
ure is  experienced.  The  two  things  are  not  identical  nor 
very  closely  allied,  but  much  confusion  has  been  caused  by 
failing  to  notice  their  difference. 

We  may  say  in  general  that  actions  which  accompany 
feelings  having  a  painful  tone  are  injurious,  and  those 
that  accompany  feelings  having  a  pleasurable  tone  are 
beneficial;  or,  painful  feelings  are  injurious  and  pleasur- 
able feelings  are  beneficial;  or  more  briefly  and  still  less 
accurately,  we  may  say  that  pain  is  injurious  and  pleasure 
is  beneficial. 

It  will  be  readily  understood  that  whenever  pain  arises 


98  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

from  a  degree  of  resistance  that  accompanies  a  feeling  of 
excessive  intensity,  some  injury  is  likely  to  result.  It  is 
pleasant  to  see  the  sunlight,  but  to  look  directly  at  the  sun 
engenders  a  feeling  of  such  intensity  as  to  be  painful  and 
is  injurious  to  the  eyesight.  The  feeling  of  fatigue  is  a 
painful  feeling  and  the  actions  that  give  rise  to  it  are  so 
excessive  as  to  be  injurious  if  persisted  in.  It  seems, 
then,  that  pain  arises  whenever  the  activity  of  any  organ 
is  of  such  a  nature  that  its  continuation  will  prove  in- 
jurious to  the  organ  exercised. 

This  may  be  stated  physiologically  by  saying  that  an 
activity  is  accompanied  by  a  feeling  having  a  painful  tone 
whenever  the  destruction  of  tissue  in  the  organ,  nervous, 
muscular,  or  glandular,  goes  on  more  rapidly  than  it  can 
be  restored.  When  the  destruction  of  tissue  is  not  greater 
than  can  be  restored  as  rapidly  as  it  is  used  up,  pain  will 
not  ensue.  Whenever  a  nervous  impulse  encounters  great 
resistance,  we  have  a  condition  in  which  there  is  a  rapid 
destruction  of  tissue  in  nerve  and  brain.  We  cannot  have 
great  resistance  without  the  liberation  of  much  nervous 
energy,  and  this  implies  rapid  oxidation  of  tissue. 

The  illustrations  employed  have  all  been  of  the  kind 
that  is  called  physical  pain,  but  the  same  thing  is  true  of 
other  kinds  of  pain  as  well.  When  the  action  is  of  such  a 
kind  as  to  be  destructive  to  the  social  organism,  then  the 
pain  is  likely  to  be  a  mental  pain,  and  follows  the  same 
law.  An  action  that  is  injurious  to  the  social  whole  is 
likely  to  be  a  painful  action.  An  action  that  is  injurious 
to  racial  propagation  is  likely  to  be  painful,  not  perhaps 
physically  but  mentally.  In  this  case,  the  social  structure 
may  be  read  in  place  of  the  physical  organism,  and  the 
same  law  will  apply. 

The  statement  that  pain  is  injurious  is  only  partly  true, 
and  in  order  not  to  be  misleading  must  be  properly  under- 
stood. We  mean  that  in  general  those  actions  that  are 
accompanied  by  feelings  having  a  painful  tone  are  in- 


THE  PROPERTIES  OP  FEELING  99 

jurious,  while  those  actions  that  are  accompanied  by  feel- 
ings having  a  pleasurable  tone  are  beneficial  Now  it 
seems  as  if  we  had  a  statement  of  a  very  satisfactory 
theory  of  life.  In  order  to  do  the  things  that  are  bene- 
ficial, we  need  only  to  do  those  things  that  are  pleasant 
and  avoid  those  that  are  unpleasant.  We  are  thus  landed 
into  the  philosophical  system  of  the  Epicureans.  But 
there  are  so  many  instances  of  a  contrary  nature  that  we 
are  inclined  to  question  the  philosophical  soundness  of 
the  doctrine.  If  I  should  never  do  anything  unpleasant, 
why  am  I  advised  to  take  quinine,  or  castor  oil,  or  some- 
thing else  that  is  equally  distasteful?  Why  is  it  that 
medicine  which  I  am  told  is  good  for  me  to  take  nearly 
always  tastes  bad?  Why  am  I  told  that  the  things  that  I 
like  to  eat  best  are  nearly  always  the  things  that  are  most 
likely  to  be  injurious  to  my  health?  Why  am  I  advised 
to  get  up  early  in  the  morning  and  to  take  exercise  when 
I  should  so  much  rather  not?  Why  am  I  advised  to  study 
in  school  the  things  that  I  like  least  or,  perhaps,  why 
should  I  find  it  necessary  to  go  to  school  at  all  when  I 
would  so  much  rather  play? 

The  answer  is  rather  easy.  If  we  were  perfectly  ad- 
justed to  the  environment  in  which  we  live,  then  the  rule 
would  hold  good  in  every  instance.  Those  things  that  are 
accompanied  by  pleasant  feelings  would  always  be  bene- 
ficial, and  those  that  are  injurious  would  always  be  ac- 
companied by  unpleasant  feelings.  But  we  are  never  per- 
fectly adjusted  to  our  environment  and  never  can  be  com- 
pletely so.  Our  environment  changes,  seasons  change, 
children  grow,  improvements  are  made  in  methods  of 
work,  habits  of  living,  and  social  ideals.  Our  ancestors 
lived  in  a  different  climate  and  in  different  surroudings 
from  what  we  do,  and  our  whole  hereditary  fabric  must 
be  readjusted  to  the  changed  conditions.  Our  environ- 
ment changes  and  our  perfect  adjustment  is  destroyed. 
It  is  in  the  process  of  readjustment  that  the  beneficial 


100  THE   FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

action  is  accompanied  by  an  unpleasant  feeling.  If  we  had 
been  accustomed  to  take  a  dose  of  quinine  every  day  for 
generations,  and  those  persons  who  did  take  the  quinine 
were  the  only  persons  who  lived  and  left  descendants, 
while  those  who  failed  to  take  quinine  died  without  leav- 
ing descendants,  the  taste  of  quinine  would  without  doubt 
ultimately  become  as  pleasant  as  is  now  the  taste  of  sugar. 
So  any  process  that  is  unpleasant  but  beneficial  would 
ultimately  become  pleasant  if  the  same  condition  pre- 
vailed, and  the  environment  to  which  the  activity  consti- 
tuted an  adjustment  remained  the  same. 

Not  only  is  pain  in  itself  not  injurious,  but  both  pain 
and  pleasure  are  alike  beneficial.  Pain  is  beneficial  be- 
cause in  consequence  of  it  we  are  induced  to  cease  doing 
the  things  that  are  injurious.  Pleasure  is  beneficial  be- 
cause by  means  of  it  we  are  induced  to  do  the  things  that 
are  advantageous  to  ourselves  as  individuals,  to  the  com- 
munity, or  to  the  race.  The  painful  tone  of  the  feeling  of 
hunger  leads  us  to  eat,  and  the  pleasurable  tone  of  the 
feeling  accompanying  the  process  of  eating  contributes  to 
the  same  result.  Both  the  pain  of  hunger  and  the  pleasure 
of  eating  conspire  to  induce  us  to  eat,  and  when  we  realize 
that  to  eat  is  the  first  condition  of  living,  we  shall  see  that 
the  process  is  not  too  well  guarded  even  by  both  pleasure 
and  pain.  In  animals  born  like  Mr.  Hodge's  puppies — 
having  the  fibers  in  the  brain  non-meduUated,  no  eating 
instinct  developed  at  birth  and  no  nervous  organization 
that  led  to  it — death  is  of  course  inevitable.  They  were 
described  by  Mr.  Hodge  as  non-viable. 

Pain  is  a  symptom  of  disease.  It  is  a  warning.  As  Dr. 
Woods  Hutchinson  calls  it,  it  is  the  great  danger  signal  of 
nature.  The  business  of  treatment  is  to  cure  the  disease, 
not  merely  to  mitigate  the  pain.  If  the  pain  is  not  relieved 
by  the  cure  of  the  disease,  but  is  mitigated  by  the  use  of 
narcotic  drugs,  or  even  by  faith  cure,  or  Christian  Science, 
the  relief  of  the  pain  is  an  evil  rather  than  a  good. 


THE   PROPERTIES   6f   FEELING  '  1<)1 

Some  diseases,  like  consumption,  leprosy,  and  syphilis, 
are  exceedingly  dangerous,  merely  because  in  their  early 
stages  they  are  accompanied  by  no  pain.  More  persons 
die  of  consumption  every  year  in  the  United  States  than 
of  any  other  disease,  and  yet,  in  its  early  stages,  it  is  one 
of  the  most  easily  curable  of  diseases.  If  it  were  accom- 
panied in  its  early  stages  by  as  much  pain  as  a  sore  finger, 
no  one  would  in  all  probability  die  of  consumption. 

Pain  and  pleasure  have  been  described  as  different  de- 
grees of  intensity  in  the  same  feeling.  Any  feeling  may 
have  a  painful  tone  or  a  pleasurable  tone,  depending  upon 
the  intensity  of  the  feeling  and  its  correlative  resistance 
in  the  brain  center.  While  this  is  in  general  true,  it  is 
possible  that  a  modification  of  it  is  needed  in  case  of  some 
of  the  most  important  activities.  It  is  possible  that  some 
actions  and  some  conditions  are  always  painful,  no  matter 
how  little  the  intensity  may  be.  It  is  doubtful  if  the  feel- 
ing of  hunger  is  ever  pleasant.  Possibly  the  feeling  of 
fear,  which  is  a  feeling  of  great  importance  in  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  individual,  is  never  pleasant.  Some  feelings 
may  be  as  consistently  pleasant,  if  they  are  of  equal  im- 
portance in  the  preservation  of  the  individual  or  the  race. 
It  has  been  observed  that  the  sexual  feeling  is  never  pain- 
ful, and  no  other  feeling  is  of  so  great  importance  in  the 
perpetuation  of  the  species  and  the  race.  It  seems  as  if  the 
activities  of  such  tremendous  importance  cannot  be  trusted 
to  the  judgment  of  the  individuals;  or  rather,  that  those 
individuals  and  those  races  in  which  these  important  feel- 
ings always  had  these  particular  tones  were  the  races  and 
the  individuals  best  adapted  to  leave  the  largest  number 
of  descendants,  and  whose  descendants  had  the  better 
chance  of  surviving.  It  has  seemed  as  if  the  feelings  of 
this  kind  must  be  provided  for  furnishing  motives  of  the 
utmost  intensity.  Such  examples,  however,  furnish  no 
grounds  for  postulating  a  separate  apparatus  for  pleasure 
and  pain.    They  are  brought  directly  under  the  laws  of 


102  l^HE   FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

feeling,  and  explained  by  the  resistance  that  is  encoun- 
tered in  the  brain  centers  traversed  by  the  appropriate 
impulses. 

Pain  and  pleasure,  then,  the  tone  of  feeling,  is  that 
characteristic  of  feeling  that  induces  the  individual  to  per- 
form actions  which  tend  to  preserve  his  life,  or  the  lives 
of  the  community,  or  the  life  of  the  race.  Physical  pain 
leads  him  to  perform  actions  that  tend  to  preserve  his  own 
individual  life.  Mental  pain  is  strictly  homologous  to 
physical  pain  in  that  it  leads  him  to  perform  actions  that 
tend  to  preserve  the  community.  There  is  no  essential 
difference.  It  is  of  equal  importance  to  preserve  the  com- 
munity as  it  is  to  preserve  the  individual. 

We  are  so  much  accustomed  to  think  of  pleasure  and 
pain  as  incentives  to  our  actions  that  we  can  scarcely  con- 
ceive that  other  creatures  may  not  be  actuated  by  the 
same  devices.  But  to  assume  that  pleasure  and  pain  are 
universal  in  the  animal  kingdom,  and  still  more  in  the 
plant  world,  would  not  be  justified  by  anything  that  we 
know.  We  are  well  aware  of  the  fact  that  pleasure  is  a 
device  by  which  the  propagation  of  the  race  and  the  con- 
tinuity of  the  species  is  secured  in  the  higher  order  of  ani- 
mals, but  how  shall  we  account  for  the  sexual  propagation 
of  fishes  in  which  the  co-operation  of  male  and  female  is 
necessary,  but  in  which  there  is  no  contact  of  the  two  in 
the  process?  We  are  inclined  to  attribute  the  squirming 
of  the  earthworm  when  it  is  cut  in  two,  to  the  fact  that  it 
feels  pain.  But  there  is  really  no  more  reason  for  consid- 
ering the  squirming  a  manifestation  of  pain  than  of  pleas- 
ure. It  might  be  an  expression  corresponding  to  our  vio- 
lent exertion  of  laughter,  so  far  as  we  can  discover,  and 
Mr.  Loeb  believes  that  the  earthworm  feels  no  pain  when 
it  is  cut  or  pressed.  A  beheaded  hen  is  moved  to  violent 
action,  but  we  can  scarcely  see  how  a  hen  with  her  head 
cut  off  can  experience  pain,  or  even  pleasure.  The  action 
of  a  sensitive  plant  is  not  different  from  that  of  many 


THE  PROPERTIES  OP  FEELING  103 

animals  whose  actions  we  call  expressions  of  pain,  yet  no 
one  believes  that  the  sensitive  plant  experiences  pain.  Al- 
though insects  are  rather  highly  organized  creatures,  it  is 
doubtful  if  they  are  protected  in  the  same  way  by  the  de- 
vice of  pain.  At  least,  it  would  be  exceedingly  difficult  to 
demonstrate  that  they  are. 

Synopsis. 

1 — There  are  three  properties  of  feeling,  specific  charac- 
ter, intensity,  and  tone. 

2 — Specific  character  is  that  property  which  is  ex- 
pressed hy  the  employment  of  different  names  for  feelings. 
It  depends  upon  the  particular  combination  of  hrain  cells 
in  which  the  resistance  is  encountered. 

3 — Intensity  is  that  property  of  feeling  which  is  ex- 
pressed by  the  words  strong  or  weak.  It  depends  upon  the 
amount  of  resistance,  and  consequently  the  intensity  is 
modified  ty  the  condition  of  the  brain  center,  by  the 
strength  of  the  current,  and  by  attention. 

4 — Tone  is  that  property  of  feeling  which  is  expressed 
by  the  words  pain  and  pleasure.  It  primarily  depends 
upon  the  degree  of  intensity,  but  in  a  few  of  the  most  essen- 
tial feelings  variation  in  intensity  does  not  cause  a  change 
in  tone. 

5 — In  general,  a  feeling  has  a  painful  tone  when  the  re- 
sistance accompanies  a  degree  of  activity  that  destroys 
tissue  more  rapidly  than  it  can  be  restored;  pleasure  is 
experienced  when  the  degree  of  activity  permits  the  restor- 
ation of  tissue  as  rapidly  as  it  is  destroyed. 


Chaptee  VII 
THE  CLASSIFICATION  OF  FEELINGS. 

There  can  be  only  two  purposes  in  the  classification  of 
a  series  of  objects  or  processes:  one  is  that  of  enabling 
us  to  remember  the  series  more  readily.  When  such  is  the 
purpose,  the  basis  of  classification  is  likely  to  be  some 
purely  accidental  circumstance,  and  the  resulting  classifi- 
cation would  not  be  considered  as  possessing  a  high  order 
of  merit.  The  second  purpose  in  classification  is  to  show 
forth  some  relation  that  would  not  otherwise  be  dis- 
covered. Such  a  classification  would  necessarily  have  for 
its  basis  some  important  characteristic,  and  the  classifi- 
cation would  exhibit  the  natural  relation  between  the 
objects  classified,  manifesting  their  nature  more  fully 
than  would  be  possible  without  it. 

In  the  classification  adopted  in  botany  and  zoology, 
which  are  the  classificatory  sciences  par  excellence,  the 
classification  called  the  natural  system  is  intended  to 
show  the  relation  by  descent  of  the  animals  and  plants 
classified.  It  exhibits  the  genetic  relationships  which  they 
bear  to  each  other.  This  kind  of  classification  is  of  so 
much  more  importance  than  any  other,  and  exhibits  re- 
lations of  so  much  greater  value,  that  it  has  completely 
superseded  all  others,  and  is  used  as  the  basis  for  assign- 
ing names  to  the  different  species. 

As  there  is  but  one  important  natural  classification  for 
animals  and  plants,  so  there  is  but  one  natural  classifica- 
tion of  the  feelings  that  shows  forth  such  essential  rela- 
tions as  to  make  it  worth  while  to  present.  This  natural 
classification  is  one  that  manifests  the  relations  among 

105 


106  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

feelings  according  to  the  function  that  they  perform  in  the 
life  of  the  individual  and  the  race,  and  the  manner  in 
which  they  have  originated. 

One  difficulty  in  classification  of  feelings  is  that  up  to 
the  present  there  are  very  few  specific  determinations  of 
feelings,  and  no  settled  method  of  procedure  in  determin- 
ing them  or  discriminating  one  from  another.  A  list  of 
all  the  feelings  that  are  mentioned  by  each  of  four  or  five 
different  writers  on  feelings  will  show  no  agreement  at  all, 
even  in  names,  beyond  a  very  few  feelings.  A  counting 
of  the  different  feelings  mentioned  in  the  books  of  four 
writers,  all  of  whom  have  written  fully  upon  the  subject, 
shows  that  the  number  varies  from  seventeen  to  a  hundred 
and  eighteen.  While  no  one  writer  probably  intended  to 
make  a  full  list  of  feelings,  nevertheless,  if  they  had  so 
intended,  it  is  probable  that  the  lists  would  have  varied  as 
widely.  A  casual  examination  of  the  several  lists  shows, 
also,  no  general  agreement  among  the  feelings  that  are 
named,  and  certainly  there  are  many  synonyms  in  the 
longer  lists ;  and  without  doubt,  several  kinds  of  feelings 
are  included  under  one  name  in  each  list.  It  would  seem 
that  some  method  of  making  specific  definitions  of  feelings 
and  delimiting  one  from  another  is  urgently  needed. 

In  all  classificatory  sciences,  it  has  been  found  of  very 
great  assistance  to  adopt  some  general  scheme  of  classi- 
fication first,  and  then  the  different  species  find  their 
places  readily  in  that  scheme.  If  we  can  establish  some 
system  of  classification  that  will  exhibit  the  most  impor- 
tant relations,  it  will  assist  greatly  in  the  description  of 
the  species. 

The  natural  classification  of  the  feelings  is  one  that 
shows  the  function  of  the  feelings  in  the  development  of 
the  individual  and  the  race,  and  indicates  as  a  logical 
necessity  the  manner  in  which  each  feeling  has  become 
established  as  a  human  characteristic.  To  Herbert 
Spencer  the  recognition  of  this  characteristic  of  feeling 


THE   CLASSIFICATION   OF   FEELINGS  107 

as  a  basis  of  classification  is  largely  due,  and  the  method 
of  classifying  adopted  here  is  derived  from  him,  with,  how- 
ever, some  important  modifications  that  the  sixty  years 
which  have  elapsed  since  Herbert  Spencer  wrote  have 
shown  to  be  necessary. 

One  general  principle  must  be  recognized  in  the  study 
of  the  feelings.  Every  feeling  has  now,  or  has  had  in  the 
recent  past,  some  advantageous  function  to  perform  in  the 
life  of  the  race  or  the  life  of  the  individual.  In  conse- 
quence of  the  benefit  that  it  has  been  in  some  way,  the 
feeling  has  become  what  it  is.  If  any  feeling  that  is  now 
experienced  should  prove  to  be  injurious  to  the  individual, 
or  to  the  race  through  the  individual,  that  feeling  would 
disappear  ultimately  as  a  human  characteristic  in  conse- 
quence of  the  elimination  of  the  individuals  in  whom  such 
feelings  manifested  themselves  in  an  injurious  manner. 
So  a  feeling  that  has  proved  itself  to  be  advantageous  to 
the  individual,  or  to  the  race  through  the  individual,  has 
become  fixed  as  a  human  characteristic  by  means  of  the 
advantage  the  individuals  who  experienced  the  feeling  had 
over  those  individuals  who  did  not  possess  it.  In  this 
way,  the  feelings  have  all  of  them  originated  by  variation, 
become  fixed  by  natural  selection,  and  been  transmitted 
by  heredity.  It  will  be  understood  that  when  we  speak  of 
feeling  being  transmitted  by  heredity,  we  mean  that  a 
nervous  organization  involving  the  capacity  for  resistance 
in  particular  brain  centers  has  been  inherited.  It  is  the 
nervous  system  with  all  its  characteristics  and  tendencies 
that  is  inherited. 

This  is  the  ordinary  law  of  natural  selection,  and  while 
its  operation  is  difficult  to  trace  in  mental  processes,  its 
efficiency  has  been  manifested  in  so  many  directions  that 
there  is  no  hesitation  in  making  this  application  of  it, 
especially  in  the  domain  of  the  feelings. 

In  the  development  of  any  species  of  animals  or  plants, 
some  means  must  be  employed  to  secure  the  preservation 


108  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

of  the  individual  and  the  propagation  of  the  species. 
These  are  the  two  fundamental  processes,  and  since  in  the 
human  race  the  feelings  largely  determine  the  actions  that 
secure  these  two  results,  it  is  possible  to  reduce  all  feelings 
to  two  great  classes,  one  class  being  those  feelings  that 
lead  to  the  preservation  of  the  individual,  and  the  other, 
the  group  of  feelings  that  lead  to  the  propagation  of  the 
species.  These  two  groups  of  feelings  are  basic,  and  it  is 
impossible  to  conceive  how  without  them  the  race  could 
have  survived,  or  have  come  to  constitute  a  factor  in  the 
living  world.  No  system  of  philosophy  can  ever  hope  to 
prove  satisfactory  as  an  explanation  of  human  events  that 
does  not  see  all  human  actions  springing  out  of  these  two 
great  functions.  Hence  we  may  expect  the  primary  classi- 
fication of  feelings  to  be  into  the  two  groups,  the  self 
preserving  and  the  race  perpetuating. 

But  early  in  the  history  of  the  race,  another  principle 
came  into  operation.  This  is  expressed  in  the  gregarious 
principle  by  which  human  beings  came  to  live  in  herds,  or 
in  society.  The  social  organization  has  had  such  a  tre- 
mendous influence  in  increasing  the  power  of  the  indi- 
vidual, leading  to  the  greater  efficiency  of  the  self  preserv- 
ing activities  and  multiplying  the  number  of  individuals 
that  constitute  the  species,  that  in  periods  of  the  past 
comparatively  recent,  the  function  of  social  organization 
has  become  of  almost  equal  importance  with  that  of  the 
self  preserving  function.  Hence  it  is  that  while  the  feel- 
ings that  lead  to  actions  which  maintain  the  social 
function  have  been  derived  from  those  of  the  self  preserv- 
ing group,  we  must  set  them  off  by  themselves  as  an  inde- 
pendent group,  yet  showing  traces  of  their  self  preserving 
origin. 

Not  only  human  beings  have  adopted  the  community 
habit  of  living,  but  we  find  it  originating  independently  in 
many  species  of  animals.  It  is  better  exemplified  in  ants, 
bees,  and  social  wasps  than  it  is  in  man.    Whether  it  is 


THE  CLASSIFICATION  OF  FEELINGS  109 

there  a  manifestation  of  the  same  kind  of  feelings  that 
have  induced  it  in  the  human  race  or  not,  may  be  ques- 
tioned. Whether  bees  and  ants  are  creatures  of  feeling, 
and  their  actions  determined  by  it,  we  are  unable  to  say. 
It  is  possible  that  the  social  organization,  resembling  in 
external  features  the  social  organization  of  man,  may 
have  been  induced  by  the  operation  of  some  other  prin- 
ciple than  that  of  the  social  feelings.  But  in  mammals 
we  have  many  examples  of  social  organization,  and  here 
we  are  better  prepared  to  assert  a  similarity  between  the 
feelings  of  mammals  and  the  feelings  of  man. 

Since  there  are  three  important  activities  in  the  life 
of  the  race,  we  shall  recognize  that  there  are  three  great 
groups  of  feelings,  each  corresponding  to  one  of  these 
functions.  The  three  groups  are  the  self-preserving  feel- 
ings, which  are  called  by  Mr.  Spencer  the  egoistic;  the 
community  preserving  feelings,  corresponding  somewhat 
closely  to  Mr.  Spencer's  altruistic ;  and  the  race  perpetu- 
ating feelings,  which  include  without  having  the  same 
limitations,  Mr.  Spencer's  group  of  the  ego-altruistic. 

The  self  preserving  feelings,  having  once  been  named, 
need  no  definition  nor  description.  They  constitute  a 
large  group  of  feelings  that  accompany  the  actions  which 
lead  to  the  preservation  of  the  individual.  Examples  of 
this  group  may  be  found  in  abundance.  All  of  the  feelings 
that  accompany  the  physical  functions,  except  the  sexual 
feelings,  belong  to  this  type.  The  feeling  of  hunger  leads 
to  the  preservation  of  the  individual  by  inducing  actions 
that  procure  food.  The  pleasure  derived  from  eating  is 
of  the  same  kind.  Thirst,  nausea,  fatigue  belong  to  this 
group.  The  advantage  of  fatigue  is  very  evident.  Ex- 
cessive activity  of  the  muscle  leads  to  the  destruction  of 
tissue  more  rapidly  than  it  can  be  replaced,  and  danger 
of  permanent  injury  is  immanent.  But  the  feeling  of 
fatigue  accompanying  the  increased  resistance  in  the 
muscular  center,  necessitates  a  cessation  of  activity. 


110  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

The  nervous  mechanism  by  which  this  result  is  brought 
about  is  not  difficult  to  understand,  if  we  remember  that 
nervous  energy  is  necessary  to  make  a  muscle  contract. 
Fatigue  may  be  either  muscle  fatigue  or  nerve  fatigue. 
The  excessive  oxidation  of  tissue  may  be  in  either  organ, 
but  it  is  detrimental  in  either  place.  The  toxic  products 
of  fatigue  are  distributed  over  all  the  body  by  the  blood 
faster  than  they  can  be  eliminated,  hence  the  feeling  of 
fatigue  is  a  general  one,  and  every  organ  in  the  body 
seems  fatigued.  As  a  result  of  this  feeling,  the  excessive 
activity  is  likely  to  be  discontinued  before  injury  is  done. 
If  it  were  not  for  the  painful  tone  of  fatigue,  in  very 
many  cases  injury  would  result,  the  individual  would  be 
seriously  injured,  and  a  smaller  number  of  persons  would 
survive  to  reproduce  and  leave  descendants. 

Not  all  self  preserving  feelings  are  related  to  the  phys- 
ical functions.  A  good  example  of  a  self  preserving  feel- 
ing is  the  feeling  of  fear.  We  have  seen  in  a  previous 
chapter  that  the  various  expressions  of  this  feeling  are 
actions,  each  of  which  in  its  appropriate  situation  tends 
to  preserve  the  life  of  the  individual.  The  shriek  of  the 
child,  the  flight  of  the  man,  the  fear  paralysis  of  either  the 
child  or  the  man,  each  in  its  own  place  may  preserve  him. 

We  have  seen  also  that  the  child  is  more  nearly  a  crea- 
ture of  feeling  than  is  an  adult  individual.  He  expe- 
riences feelings  of  a  greater  intensity,  and  a  larger  part 
of  his  nervous  energy  is  expended  in  overcoming  resist- 
ance. But  with  a  child,  the  activities  are  more  nearly 
limited  to  the  preservation  of  himself  than  are  the  activi- 
ties of  older  persons.  Hence  we  find,  just  as  we  should 
expect,  that  the  feelings  of  a  little  child  are  almost  all 
of  the  self  preserving  kind,  or  selfish  feelings.  A  little 
child  is  a  bundle  of  selfishness,  and  there  is  no  room  in 
his  heart  for  feelings  of  self  abnegation.  He  does  not 
care  in  the  least  how  much  trouble  he  may  cause  his 
parents.    He  has  no  shame,  modesty,  reverence,  gratitude, 


THE  CLASSIFICATION  OF  FEELINGS  HI 

remorse,  sympathy,  or  pity.  His  only  business  is  to  live, 
and  he  makes  every  circumstance  subservient  to  that  end. 
He  lives,  not  in  his  sensations,  but  in  his  feelings. 

Without  some  understanding  such  as  this,  we  shall  be 
unable  to  interpret  the  actions  of  children.  It  is  a  failure 
to  appreciate  the  circumstance  that  the  feelings  of  chil- 
dren are  of  necessity  altogether  of  the  self  preserving 
group  that  has  led  to  the  doctrine  of  total  depravity. 
The  doctrine  is  inevitable,  if  we  fail  to  take  into  account 
the  function  of  the  feelings  that  a  natural  classification 
discloses. 

The  plays  of  little  children  below  the  age  of  seven  are 
almost  all  such  as  give  rise  to  this  group  of  self  preserv- 
ing, or  egoistic  feelings,  associated  with  the  sense  activ- 
ity. We  may  call  the  activity  of  the  senses  in  themselves, 
sense  plays.  All  of  the  plays  of  little  children  are  sense 
plays,  involving  the  feelings  appropriate  to  the  senses, 
and  they  are  individual  plays.  It  will  be  readily  under- 
stood that  the  functional  activity  of  the  senses  is  in  itself 
an  advantage  to  the  child,  strengthening  him  and  enabling 
him  to  grow,  becoming  all  the  time  better  able  to  maintain 
himself  in  the  struggle  for  existence. 

The  organization  of  brain  centers  goes  on  as  the  result 
of  impulses  originating  in  play.  Sight,  hearing,  muscles 
with  their  brain  connections,  grow  as  they  are  exercised. 
Not  only  do  they  grow  and  the  cells  which  constitute  them 
become  developed,  but  they  become  associated,  and  asso- 
ciation fibers  develop  between  centers  in  the  direction 
that  the  impulse  runs.  It  is  through  the  play  activity  of 
the  senses,  particularly  the  muscular  sense,  that  the  mus- 
cles become  strong  and  capable  of  coordination. 

The  second  great  group  of  feelings  are  the  community 
preserving,  or  altruistic  feelings.  The  name  community 
preserving  is  much  to  be  preferred,  since  it  renders  su- 
perflous  any  explanation  or  definition  of  the  group. 
The  community  preserving  feelings  are  those  feelings  which 


112  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

accompany  actions  that  tend  to  benefit  the  community. 
While  this  group  has  been  developed  out  of  the  self  pre- 
serving feelings,  it  was  split  off  from  them  very  early  in 
the  history  of  the  race,  at  the  time  when  it  adopted  the 
gregarious  habit  of  living.  It  is  probable  that  the  com- 
munity preserving  feelings  exercised  little  influence  upon 
the  actions  of  men  before  the  time  that  is  known  to  anthro- 
pologists as  the  period  of  middle  barbarism,  when  first 
the  community  and  tribal  organization  began  to  be  ef- 
fective. We  should  not  expect  any  great  strength  in  the 
community  preserving  feelings  until  there  was  a  com- 
munity to  preserve,  and  the  community  would  in  all  prob- 
ability develop  coincidently  with  the  growth  of  the  appro- 
priate feelings. 

It  is  possible  to  show  that  the  community  preserving 
feelings  have  been  developed  out  of  the  self  preserving, 
and  that  they  are  in  their  origin  the  same.  Hence  it  is 
not  at  all  a  matter  of  surprise  to  us  that  so  much  in- 
genuity has  been  expended  in  showing  that  altruism  and 
egoism  are  at  bottom  one  and  the  same  thing.  The  per- 
son who  preserves  and  benefits  himself,  at  the  same  time 
benefits  the  community  of  which  he  forms  a  part,  by  fur- 
nishing it  with  a  more  efficient  member.  So  the  person 
who  does  something  to  benefit  the  community,  at  the 
same  time  is  benefiting  himself,  since  he  constitutes  a  part 
of  the  community  to  whom  the  benefit  of  his  action 
accrues. 

Community  life  has  become  such  an  important  func- 
tion in  human  development  that  perhaps  the  larger  part 
of  our  actions  consist  of  those  that  are  performed  di- 
rectly for  the  benefit  of  some  one  else.  No  one  of  us  has 
built  the  house  in  which  he  lives,  nor  made  his  own 
clothes,  nor  obtained  any  large  proportion  of  his  own 
food.  The  result  of  our  work  has  been  distributed  over  a 
hundred  different  persons,  and  we  have  drawn  from  a 
thousand  to  obtain  the  things  that  we  need  every  day. 


THE   CLASSIFICATION   OP   FEELINGS  113 

We  can  readily  think  of  pity,  sympathy  and  charity  as 
example  of  altruistic  feelings,  but  it  is  rather  more  diffi- 
cult to  see  that  the  man  who  shovels  coal  into  another 
man's  cellar  is  engaged  in  an  altruistic  act,  or  that  the 
man  who  puts  up  a  sign  in  front  of  his  store  to  indicate 
where  goods  may  be  bought  is  equally  commendable  for 
his  altruism.  Our  content  for  the  word  altruism  is  alto- 
gether too  narrow  to  fit  the  circumstances.  As  habitually 
employed,  it  includes  something  of  the  idea  of  sacrifice 
and  painful  tone  in  the  feeling  that  accompanies  the  altru- 
istic action.  Such  is  not  a  proper  meaning  for  the  word, 
and  the  description  of  the  way  in  which  such  a  perverted 
meaning  came  to  be  applied  to  it  furnishes  a  most  in- 
teresting chapter  in  the  history  of  philosophical  doctrine. 

Any  action  that  directly  results  in  benefit  to  some  one 
else  is  properly  a  community  preserving  action,  and  the 
feelings  that  appropriately  accompany  it  are  altruistic, 
or  community  preserving  feelings.  We  fail  to  recognize 
it  as  such  in  many  cases,  because  by  habit  the  feeling  has 
largely  disappeared  from  most  of  the  community  preserv- 
ing actions  that  we  do. 

To  this  great  group  of  community  preserving  feelings 
belong  all  the  feelings  that  we  have  been  accustomed  to 
call  the  moral  feelings.  Justice,  truth,  charity,  integ- 
rity, all  of  them  necessary  for  the  preservation  and 
strength  of  the  community,  and  all  the  feelings  that  we 
call  the  moral  virtues  belong  here. 

But  there  are  other  feelings  belonging  to  this  group 
whose  position  is  less  readily  seen.  Courage  is  the  great 
virtue,  and  in  fact  is  the  mother  of  all  the  others.  Cour- 
age is  the  feeling  that  leads  a  man  to  go  into  the  army  and 
fight,  even  though  he  may  know  that  he  will  be  killed.  In 
this  way  it  comes  directly  into  conflict  with  fear,  the  self 
preserving  feeling.  Courage,  not  hope,  is  the  antithesis 
of  fear.  The  individual  who  goes  into  battle  and  fights, 
and  is  killed,  benefits  the  community,  not  directly  by  get- 


114  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

ting  himself  killed,  though  all  of  us  have  known  persons 
whom  we  had  reason  to  believe  could  benefit  the  commu- 
nity more  by  getting  themselves  killed  than  they  could  in 
any  other  way ;  but  the  man  who  goes  to  war,  and  fights 
the  enemies  of  his  country,  and  thereby  prevents  the  de- 
struction of  the  entire  community,  even  though  he  be 
killed  himself,  preserves  the  community  for  which  he 
fights.  The  death  of  the  individual,  especially  one  who 
has  courage,  and  the  virtues  that  properly  associate  them- 
selves with  it,  is  directly  an  injury  to  the  community. 
But  in  case  that  the  existence  of  the  entire  community 
is  threatened,  it  is  advantageous  to  set  aside  a  portion 
of  the  community,  even  one  tenth  of  its  members,  to  fight 
and  be  killed  and  offered  up  as  a  sacrifice,  if  thereby  the 
safety  and  continued  existence  of  the  community  with 
nine-tenths  of  its  members  is  assured.  Hence  it  is  that 
courage  is  a  moral,  community  preserving  feeling. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  in  those  animals  in  which 
the  gregarious  instinct  is  most  completely  developed,  fear 
seems  to  be  wanting.  The  social  insects — bees,  ants, 
wasps — seem  to  have  none  of  it.  Nothing  is  more  cour- 
ageous than  is  a  bee  or  an  ant.  The  individual  appears  to 
be  nothing,  the  community  is  everything,  and  every  bee 
is  perfectly  fearless,  ready  and  willing  to  attack  any- 
thing without  regard  to  consequences  to  himself.  This 
arises  from  the  greater  intensity  of  the  community  life, 
and  probably  also  from  the  very  rapid  rate  of  reproduc- 
tion, rendering  unnecessary  for  the  community  existence 
the  same  amount  of  care  in  the  preservation  of  the  indi- 
vidual. 

Among  the  community  preserving  feelings  we  must 
class  some  that  at  first  glance  appear  to  be  directly  con- 
tradictory to  the  definition  implied  in  the  name  commu- 
nity preserving.  Here  belong  such  feelings  as  anger,  hate 
and  revenge ;  the  feelings  that  are  classified  by  some  psy- 
chologists as  the  malevolent  group.    It  appears  to  be  al- 


THE  CLASSIFICATION  OP  FEELINGS  115 

most  a  paradox  to  class  them  with  the  altruistic,  or  com- 
munity preserving  feelings,  because  to  our  common 
thought  it  appears  that  they  are  rather  community  de- 
stroying feelings.  But  we  must  look  for  a  justification 
of  our  grouping  to  the  function  that  they  had  in  racial 
history  when  they  became  fixed  by  the  process  of  natural 
selection.  In  certain  stages  of  society  which  we  call 
savage,  it  is  universally  regarded  as  a  moral  obligation 
to  take  revenge  for  the  killing  of  a  kinsman,  or  fellow 
tribesman.  The  slayer  himself,  or  some  member  of  his 
family  must  be  killed,  and  a  relative  of  the  murdered 
man  who  does  not  seek  revenge  is  considered  immoral, 
and  regarded  as  unworthy  of  fellowship  in  the  tribe. 
Even  now  in  warfare,  it  is  considered  necessary  to  stir 
up  hatred  and  revenge  toward  the  members  of  the  nation 
with  which  we  are  at  war.  It  is  necessary  to  "fire  the 
national  heart."  This  induces  enlistment  in  the  army, 
prevents  desertion,  and  makes  better  fighters.  An  army 
disintegrates  if  its  soldiers  become  friendly  with  the  sol- 
diers of  the  enemy. 

Hatred,  anger  and  revenge  have  an  advantageous  func- 
tion, similar  to  that  of  warning  colors  in  animals.  A 
bumblebee  is  not  likely  to  be  disturbed  and  injured  if  one 
knows  that  it  is  there.  Its  bright  color  shows  where  it  is. 
So  if  it  is  known  that  the  killing  of  a  person  or  a  member 
of  a  tribe  will  be  inevitably  followed  by  reprisals,  that 
person  or  tribe  is  not  likely  to  be  molested. 

It  is  perfectly  allowable  to  hate  an  enemy  in  warfare 
and  to  kill  him  if  we  can.  That  is  what  a  soldier  is  hired 
for.  He  must  kill,  destroy  human  life,  and  the  feelings 
that  are  appropriate  to  such  action,  and  lead  to  such  kill- 
ing, are  moral,  virtuous,  tending  to  preserve  the  commu- 
nity. These  feelings  have  their  appropriate  function 
when  they  are  directed  toward  the  enemies  of  the  commu- 
nity, and  when  so  directed  they  tend  to  preserve  it.  They 
receive  their  reprehensible  character  when,  instead  of  be- 


116  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

ing  directed  toward  the  enemies  of  the  community,  they 
are  directed  toward  members  of  the  same  community. 
Then  they  become  immoral  and  a  detriment  to  the  com- 
munity itself.  Since  warfare  has  ceased  to  be  an  univer- 
sal and  constant  occupation,  these  feelings  have  largely 
lost  their  appropriate  character,  and  persist  rather  as 
vestigial  feelings  than  as  feelings  whose  functions  are 
still  important.  They  have  ceased  to  be  regarded  as 
moral,  and  have  come  to  be  considered  immoral,  which 
fact  is  in  itself  an  indication  of  their  vestigial  character. 

We  find  anger  and  hate  best  exemplified  in  those  mem- 
bers of  the  community  who  are  least  developed,  among 
the  uneducated,  the  lowest  strata  of  society,  and  the  near- 
criminals.  They  are  least  exemplified  among  the  better 
classes  of  persons  in  the  community,  and  when  they  are 
experienced,  they  are  never  boasted  about,  but  concealed 
with  shame.  So  when  we  find  anger  and  revenge  ex- 
hibited by  little  children,  we  can  recognize  these  feelings 
as  an  indication  of  an  undeveloped  condition,  and  perhaps 
an  indication  of  the  bringing  forward  of  a  tendency  that 
is  becoming  vestigial,  and  being  dropped  out  of  the  life 
of  the  race  as  a  characteristic  of  a  human  being. 

We  can  readily  understand  that  pity,  sympathy,  and 
charity  are  moral,  altruistic,  community  preserving  feel- 
ings. They  benefit  the  community  by  preserving  those 
members  of  it  who  are  unable  to  preserve  themselves.  It 
is  by  these  community  preserving  feelings  that  the  com- 
munity is  bound  into  a  solidarity  and  each  is  ready  to 
help  all  the  others.  But  a  question  arises,  whether  these 
feelings  of  pity  and  sympathy  may  not  become  hyper- 
trophied,  and  be  a  source  of  weakness  instead  of  strength 
to  a  community.  We  know  that  there  are  dependent 
classes  in  the  community  that  must  be  supported  and 
maintained  by  the  other  members.  There  are  paupers 
who  are  unable  to  make  a  living,  or  to  contribute  to  the 
strength  of  the  community  even  so  much  as  to  produce 


THE  CLASSIFICATION  OF  FEELINGS  IIT 

what  they  consume.  They  must  be  maintained  by  the 
labor  of  others.  Often  these  are  in  special  institutions, 
and  in  so  far  as  they  detract  from  the  effective  labor  of 
the  rest  of  the  community,  they  may  be  regarded  as  a 
source  of  weakness.  Then  there  are  insane  persons,  who 
can  never  hope  to  be  cured,  but  must  be  cared  for,  and 
thereby  they  detract  just  so  much  from  the  strength  auu 
efficiency  of  the  community.  Besides  these,  there  are 
criminals,  some  of  whom  can  never  become  anything  else, 
and  in  order  to  prevent  their  preying  upon  the  community, 
it  is  found  profitable  and  productive  of  less  weakness  to 
the  community  to  confine  them  in  stately  mansions  where 
they  are  cared  for  by  painstaking  attendants. 

These  dependent  and  defective  classes  constitute  a  se- 
rious burden  upon  the  community,  and  detract  from  its 
strength  and  effectiveness.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the 
community  would  be  strengthened  by  the  elimination  ot 
perhaps  one-tenth  of  its  members.  Why  shall  we  not 
eliminate  them?  When  a  person  is  recognized  as  a  con- 
firmed criminal,  the  chances  of  whose  reformation  are 
quite  remote,  why  should  he  not  be  killed  at  once  ?  When 
a  person  has  become  incurably  insane,  why  not  execute 
him  in  the  least  painful  manner?  If  a  person  is  a  pau- 
per, unable  to  make  a  living,  so  that  he  must  be  supported 
by  the  labor  of  some  one  else,  who  not  only  makes  his  own 
living,  but  can  spare  a  surplus  from  the  product  of  his 
labor,  why  not  prevent  such  pauperis  weakening  effect 
upon  the  community  by  killing  him  ? 

It  is  also  true  that  the  weak,  inefficient,  criminal  and 
insane  classes,  tend  to  perpetuate  their  kind,  and  the  his- 
tory of  several  families,  of  which  the  Jukes  were  the  first 
studied,  show  that  in  our  present  society  there  is  no  tend- 
ency toward  their  elimination. 

To  such  reasoning  only  one  effective  argument  can  be 
offered.  It  is  true  that  these  defective  and  delinquent 
persons  are  a  source  of  weakness  to  the  community  and 


118  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

their  elimination  would  strengthen  it.  It  is  true  that  the 
strength  of  the  community  preserving  feelings  of  pity, 
sympathy  and  charity  tend  to  perpetuate  this  weakness. 
But  any  community  in  which  the  feelings  of  pity  and 
sympathy  and  similar  feelings  that  tend  to  preserve  the 
community  and  to  generate  a  community  spirit  are  so 
weak  as  to  permit  the  killing  of  these  defectives,  would 
be  held  together  by  bonds  so  feeble  that  the  community 
would  inevitably  disintegrate.  The  only  remedy  is  not 
elimination  of  defectives  after  they  have  appeared,  but 
the  prevention  of  their  appearance  by  the  removal  of 
causes,  medical  treatment,  education  and  other  means 
that  will  diminish  the  proportion  in  the  community  while 
still  preserving  the  full  effectiveness  of  the  feelings  that 
prohibit  their  removal. 

A  third  group  of  feelings  are  the  race  perpetuating 
feelings.  These  feelings  are  fundamental  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  race,  and  have  the  same  basic  position  as  do 
the  self  preserving  feelings.  They  are  even  more  funda- 
mental than  are  the  community  preserving  feelings,  and 
are  even  more  powerful  in  leading  to  action,  although 
their  range  is  more  circumscribed. 

Beginning  with  the  feelings  that  accompany  the  sexual 
sensations,  we  find  the  race  perpetuating  feelings  are  such 
as  are  incident  to  the  rearing  of  children  and  the  propa- 
gation of  the  species.  Perhaps  the  best  example  is  the  love 
of  a  mother  for  her  child.  This  is  a  feeling  of  such  inten- 
sity that  it  will  overcome  almost  any  other  kind.  A 
woman  is  likely  to  be  influenced  strongly  by  the  feeling  of 
fear,  a  self  preserving  feeling.  But  the  influence  of 
mother  love  will  completely  annihilate  the  self  preserving 
feeling,  and  make  of  the  mother  an  embodiment  of  cour- 
age. 

The  race  perpetuating  feelings  are  especially  those  that 
are  incident  to  family  life,  such  as  the  love  of  a  man  for 
his  wife,  a  wife  for  her  husband,  either  present  or  pros- 


THE   CLASSIFICATION   OF   FEELINGS  119 

pective,  of  parents  for  children,  a  brother  for  a  sister,  or 
perhaps  better,  for  somebody  else's  sister. 

If  we  examine  these  feelings  in  the  light  of  their  origin 
and  their  function,  we  shall  readily  see  why  it  is  that 
the  love  of  a  parent  for  a  child  is  likely  to  be  greater  and 
to  differ  qualitatively  from  the  love  of  a  child  for  a  parent. 
The  love  of  a  parent  for  a  child  is  an  example  of  race  per- 
petuating feelings,  and  has  its  utility  in  the  continuation 
of  the  species.  The  feeling  is  so  strong  and  of  such  a 
character  that  the  parent  will  prefer  to  die  before  the 
child  does.  Nearly  any  parent  will,  if  necessary,  give 
his  life  for  that  of  the  child.  A  parent  can  be  injured  in 
no  other  way  so  severely  as  through  his  child.  We  may 
fix  the  natural  termination  of  the  life  of  a  man  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  reproductive  period,  just  as  it  is  in  the 
ragweed,  or  any  other  plant  in  a  high  degree  of  organiza- 
tion. This  limit  must  be  set  not  at  the  time  of  the  birth 
of  the  last  born  child,  but  must  include  the  period  of 
helplessness  of  the  last  born  infant.  This  would  bring 
the  theoretical  limit  up  to  not  very  far  from  the  tradi- 
tional three  score  and  ten. 

The  love  of  a  child  for  a  parent  does  not  contain  the 
same  elements  of  feeling  as  does  the  love  of  a  parent  for 
a  child.  The  love  of  a  child  for  a  parent  can  scarcely  be 
included  in  the  list  of  race  perpetuating  feelings.  The 
love  of  a  child  for  a  parent  in  the  first  period  of  a  child's 
life,  up  to  the  age  of  about  seven,  belongs  rather  to  the 
egoistic  feelings,  and  is  advantageous  to  the  child  in  en- 
abling him  to  live.  Then  comes  a  change  in  the  feelings 
of  a  child  when  he  is  unconsciously  struggling  to  make 
himself  independent,  the  feelings  for  a  parent  change 
and  the  new  feeling  is  one  that  must  be  classified  with 
the  community  preserving  group.  The  three  kinds  of  feel- 
ing designated  here  by  the  one  word  love  are  as  specific- 
ally different  from  each  other  as  are  the  feelings  of  philo- 
progenitiveness,  pity  and  pride.    The  change  in  the  feel- 


120  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

ings  and  attitude  of  a  boy  toward  his  father,  when  we 
compare  them  at  the  time  when  the  boy  is  six  with  those 
of  the  same  boy  at  the  age  of  eleven  is  something  to  ex- 
cite wonder,  and  deserves  more  study  than  it  has  ever  yet 
received. 

A  parent  may  naturally  expect  to  die  before  his  chil- 
dren do.  The  death  of  a  child,  or  of  children  is  likely  to 
prove  disastrous  to  the  subsequent  vigor  and  courage  and 
general  usefulness  of  the  parent.  If  the  same  kind  of  an 
effect  were  to  be  produced  upon  the  child  by  the  death  of 
a  parent,  the  total  effect,  manifested  upon  all  the  persons 
in  the  community  who  have  parents  die,  w^ould  be  disas- 
trous. Hence  it  is  an  advantage  to  the  community  and 
to  the  race  that  the  feeling  of  a  child  for  a  parent  should 
not  be  of  the  same  kind,  nor  so  intense  as  that  of  a  parent 
for  a  child. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  love  of  parents  for 
children,  philoprogenitiveness,  is  much  less  strong  in 
those  animals  in  which  the  rate  of  reproduction  is  very 
rapid  and  very  high.  It  quite  disappears  in  fishes,  some 
of  whom  lay  many  thousand  eggs  every  season  and  take 
no  care  of  their  young.  The  same  thing  is  true  of  frogs 
and  toads.  Calculation  shows  that  a  single  toad  will  lay 
ten  thousand  eggs  in  one  season,  and  although  the  eggs 
are  very  carefully  placed,  no  further  attention  is  paid  to 
them,  and  we  are  compelled  to  believe  that  the  feeling 
of  philoprogenitiveness  is  absolutely  lacking.  A  full 
grown  bullfrog  will  eat  its  own  progeny  as  readily  as  it 
will  any  other  kind  of  food.  Of  the  ten  thousand  eggs, 
not  more  than  two  on  the  average,  will  come  to  maturity. 
It  appears  that  the  large  number  of  eggs  is  one  device  by 
which  the  perpetuity  of  the  race  is  assured  when  the  feel- 
ing that  prompts  parental  care  is  wanting ;  while,  when  it 
is  present,  not  so  many  eggs  or  so  many  young  are  pro- 
duced, and  the  reproductive  forces  are  conserved  by  it. 
There  are,  then,  two  different  devices  by  which  the  race 


THE   CLASSIFICATION   OP   FEELINGS  121 

perpetuation  is  secured,  and,  in  the  human  being,  the  de- 
vice that  is  employed  is  the  race  perpetuating  feeling  of 
philoprogenitiveness,  instead  of  large  reproductive  power. 

In  plants  we  have  a  manifestation  of  the  same  device 
that  is  employed  in  the  case  of  fishes  and  toads.  The  race 
is  perpetuated  and  improvement  is  secured  by  a  high  rate 
of  reproduction,  or  the  production  of  a  large  number  of 
seeds.  In  this  way,  the  device  of  philoprogenitiveness  is 
rendered  unnecessary.  A  single  ragweed  may  produce 
five  thousand  seeds,  and  some  plants  have  a  higher  rate 
of  reproduction. 

The  race  perpetuating  feelings  are  rather  late  in  ap- 
pearing, and  scarcely  make  themselves  manifest  in  typical 
forms  before  the  age  of  adolescence.  Then  they  assume 
a  dominant  importance  in  the  life  of  the  individual. 

All  the  feelings  that  are  experienced  may  be  classified 
into  these  three  groups.  The  religious  feelings  do  not 
constitute  a  fourth  group,  or  rather,  they  constitute  a 
group  in  a  different  system  of  classification,  whose  basis 
is  another  characteristic  than  the  function  they  have 
performed  in  the  development  of  the  race.  One  of  the 
most  puzzling  questions  for  writers  upon  religious  feel- 
ings has  been  that  of  the  utility  of  the  religious  feelings. 

Religious  feelings  are  those  feelings  that  accompany 
the  perception  or  contemplation  of  God,  in  some  one  of 
his  aspects.  This  is  not  an  advantageous  function  of  the 
feelings,  and  the  religious  feelings,  as  religious,  have  had 
no  advantageous  function  in  the  development  of  the  race. 
They  are  not  grouped  as  religious  because  of  any  advan- 
tageous function,  but  because  of  the  object  whose  contem- 
plation arouses  the  feelings.  The  religious  feelings,  like 
every  other  feeling,  have  been  advantageous,  but  they 
have  been  advantageous  because  the  several  religious 
feelings  are  either  self  preserving,  community  preserving, 
or  race  perpetuating.  Every  religious  feeling  may  be 
classified  into  one  or  the  other  of  these  three  groups. 


122  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

Many  of  the  most  important  religious  feelings  belong 
to  the  race  perpetuating  group.  A  good  illustration  may 
be  found  in  the  religious  doctrine  of  immortality,  which  is 
closely  related  to  the  perpetuation  of  the  self  in  the  chil- 
dren. The  strongest  appeal  that  can  be  made  for  one  to 
believe  in  the  doctrine  of  immortality  is  the  consideration 
of  the  death  of  a  child.  Not  nearly  so  effective  is  the 
death  of  a  parent  or  a  sister  or  a  brother,  still  less  is  that 
of  a  friend,  while  if  the  doctrine  of  immortality  promised 
merely  a  resurrection  and  a  continued  existence  of  the  in- 
dividual in  solitude,  or  in  association  with  mere  acquaint- 
ances or  enemies,  the  doctrine  would  lose  its  attractive- 
ness, and  would  be  believed  by  few.  But  when  one  con- 
templates the  reunion  after  death  with  a  beloved  child, 
it  presents  an  irresistible  appeal. 

The  figures  of  speech  employed  in  describing  and  dis- 
cussing religious  experiences  are  largely  those  derived 
from  family  life.  Father,  mother,  sister,  brother,  bride 
of  Christ,  and  many  others,  are  as  appropriate  in  religious 
discussion  as  in  family  life. 

The  connection  between  religious  experience  and  the 
phenomena  of  adolescence  has  been  often  commented 
upon  and  described.  Adolescence  is  the  time  when  the 
race  perpetuating  feelings  begin  to  exercise  a  dominant 
influence  in  the  life  of  the  individual,  and  this  is  exactly 
the  time  that  the  most  intense  religious  experiences  occur. 
Much  the  larger  number  of  religious  conversions  occur 
in  the  adolescent  years.  The  ceremonies  of  confirmation 
take  place  in  those  churches  that  employ  them  just  at  the 
beginning  of  adolescence. 

But  not  all  religious  feelings  belong  to  the  race  per- 
petuating group.  The  attempt  is  made  in  our  modern 
churches,  at  least,  to  justify  religion  on  moral  grounds, 
and  to  demonstrate  that  religion  not  only  conduces  to 
morality,  but  is  inseparable  from  it.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  some  religious  feelings  accompany  actions  that  are 


THE   CLASSIFICATION   OP   FEELINGS  123 

altruistic,  moral,  and  therefore,  they  belong  to  the  com- 
munity preserving  group.  All  of  those  feelings  that  are 
emphasized  by  religion  for  the  purpose  of  cultivating 
morality  must  be  classified  here. 

Still  others  belong  to  the  self  preserving,  or  selfish 
group.  Many  persons  and  many  churches  emphasize  the 
duties  of  religion  as  a  means  of  obtaining  entrance  into 
Heaven  and  escaping  Hell.  Also,  religion  is  practiced 
frequently  as  a  means  of  obtaining  the  assistance  of  God 
in  accomplishing  any  undertaking  in  the  present  life. 
All  such  hedonistic  doctrines  appeal  to  the  feelings  of  the 
self  preserving  group. 

Different  religions  and  different  churches  of  the  same 
religion  vary  widely  in  the  relative  importance  that  they 
lay  upon  these  different  groups  of  the  religious  feelings. 
In  its  self  preserving,  communitj^  preserving,  or  race  per- 
petuating function,  with  different  individuals  and  under 
different  circumstances,  each  religious  feeling  has  with- 
out doubt  been  advantageous  in  the  development  of  the 
race. 

Synopsis. 

1 — The  purpose  of  classification  is  to  show  forth  impor- 
tant relations  among  the  objects  classified  which  might 
otherwise  be  overlooked. 

2 — The  most  important  classification  of  feelings  is  that 
which  shows  the  functions  that  feelings  have  performed 
in  the  development  of  the  race. 

3 — All  feelings  may  he  classified  into  three  groups 
according  to  the  functions  that  they  have  exercised;  self 
preserving,  community  preserving,  and  race  perpetuating. 

4 — The  self  preserving  feelings  accompany  actions  that 
tend  to  preserve  the  individual.  They  are  called  also  ego- 
istic feelings,  and  selfish  feelings.  They  are  especially 
dominant  in  children.    Fear  is  one  of  them. 

5 — The  community  preserving  feelings  accompany  ac- 


124  THE   PEELINGS   OF   MAN 

tions  that  tend  to  benefit  the  community  or  some  memher 
of  the  community.  They  are  also  called  altruistic,  and 
moral  feelings,  although  some  of  them,  such  as  anger,  hate 
and  revenge,  by  a  change  of  circumstances  under  which 
the  community  exists,  have  become  vestigial  and  are  con- 
sidered immoral.  Courage  is  a  typical  community  pre- 
serving feeling. 

6 — The  race  perpetuating  feelings  are  coordinate  with 
the  self  preserving  feelings.  They  accompany  actions  that 
tend  to  perpetuate  the  species.  Three  divisions  may  be 
recognized:  sexual  feelings,  conjugal  love,  and  philopro- 
genitiveness. 

7 — The  religious  feelings  do  not  constitute  a  fourth 
group,  but  constitute  a  group  in  a  different  system  of 
classification.  Every  religious  feeling  may  be  classified 
into  one  or  another  of  the  three  groups  of  the  self  preserv- 
ing, community  preserving,  or  race  perpetuating  feelings. 


Chapter  VIII 
THE    PKOBLEM    OF    ESTHETICS. 

The  esthetic  feelings  are  those  aroused  by  the  contem- 
plation of  the  beautiful  or  the  ugly.  They  are  commonly 
supposed  to  constitute  a  fourth  group,  distinct  from  the 
self  preserving,  the  community  preserving,  and  the  race 
perpetuating  feelings;  and  the  problem  of  their  func- 
tions in  the  development  of  the  race  has  been  a  most 
difficult  one  for  evolutionists  to  solve.  So  serious  has  this 
problem  been  felt  to  be  that  many  persons  not  only  look 
upon  the  esthetic  feelings  as  furnishing  the  most  incon- 
trovertible evidence  of  the  supernatural  character  of  the 
human  soul,  but  believe  that  there  is  no  possibility  of  ac- 
counting for  the  esthetic  feelings  by  any  natural  evolu- 
tionary process,  such  as  accounts  for  the  development  of 
the  physical  organism.  That  the  esthetic  feelings  may  be 
accounted  for  only  by  the  introduction  of  a  miraculous 
element  into  the  evolutionary  process,  is  held  by  many 
scientific  men. 

The  separation  of  the  esthetic  feelings  from  the  other 
groups,  and  the  assumption  that  they  constitute  an  ele- 
ment in  the  affective  life  unrelated  to  any  other  depart- 
ment, has  been  the  source  of  abundant  error  and  much 
unjustified  speculation.  It  is  the  purpose  of  the  present 
chapter  to  show  that  esthetic  feelings  are  not  different  in 
character  from  other  feelings,  but  have  their  concomitants 
in  the  same  cimcumstance  by  which  other  feelings  are 
explained.  Each  feeling  that  accompanies  the  perception 
of  an  object  that  is  adjudged  beautiful  or  ugly,  has  its 

125 


126  THE  FEELINGS  OP   MAN 

concomitant  in  the  resistance  that  the  nervous  impulse 
encounters  in  the  process  of  perceiving.  Esthetic  feelings 
are  subject  to  the  same  laws  of  habit  and  its  consequent 
decrease  in  intensity,  and  manifest  the  same  properties 
of  specific  character,  intensity  and  tone  as  do  other  feel- 
ings. The  principal  reason  for  setting  them  off  as  a  sepa- 
rate group  has  been  the  difficulty  in  understanding  how 
they  have  contributed  anything  of  advantage  to  the  im- 
provement of  the  race,  and  what  function  they  have  per- 
formed in  racial  progress.  But  when  it  is  shown  that  the 
feelings  recognized  as  esthetic  have  affiliations  with 
groups  whose  utility  and  functions  are  already  recognized, 
the  difficulty  vanishes,  and  it  is  seen  that  they  constitute 
a  group  in  a  different  system  of  classification,  whose  dis- 
tinguishing character  is  not  the  function  of  the  feeling  in 
racial  development,  but  a  totally  different  characteristic. 
The  esthetic  feelings  can  all  be  classified  into  the  self 
preserving,  the  community  preserving  and  the  race  per- 
petuating groups.  Their  utility  comes  not  in  consequence 
of  their  being  esthetic,  but  because  they  belong  to  the 
other  three  groups. 

The  assumption  is  generally  made  that  there  is  some 
standard  of  beauty  inherent  in  the  human  mind  to  which 
all  objects  that  are  adjudged  beautiful  must  conform. 
Many  different  suppositions  have  been  made  concerning 
the  nature  of  this  standard.  The  curved  line  is  supposed 
to  be  the  line  of  beauty  because  it  typifies  the  freedom 
which  is  the  ultimate  desire  of  the  human  soul.  The  util- 
ity which  an  object  manifests  is  another  standard,  con- 
formity to  which  is  believed  to  render  an  object  beauti- 
ful. If  it  is  adapted  perfectly  to  the  performance  of  the 
work  for  which  it  is  designed,  then  its  contemplation  af- 
fords esthetic  enjoyment.  Upon  this  view,  the  works  of 
nature  are  beautiful,  since  they  are  perfectly  adapted 
to  the  service  for  which  God  intended  them. 

There  is  beauty  in  the  human  form,  and  this  beauty  is 


THE   PROBLEM   OP   ESTHETICS  127 

found  in  the  close  approximation  that  any  particular 
human  body  makes  to  the  standard  that  God  has  estab- 
lished. Man  is  made  in  the  image  of  God,  and  the  more 
closely  he  approximates  the  Divine  Image,  the  more  beau- 
tiful he  becomes.  But  ornament  is  also  beautiful,  and  be- 
yond accentuating  the  elements  of  beauty  that  are  indi- 
cated by  some  of  the  other  theories,  no  reason  can  be  sug- 
gested for  the  beauty  of  ornamentation. 

An  examination  of  the  theories  of  beauty  will  show 
that  there  is  no  single  one  advanced  which  will  explain 
the  beauty  in  the  different  classes  of  esthetic  objects,  and 
scarcely  any  two  theories  fail  to  contradict  each  other. 
While  one  theory  may  be  satisfactory  for  one  class  of  ex- 
amples which  has  suggested  it  and  from  which  it  is  de- 
rived, it  utterly  fails  when  applied  to  others.  Hence, 
also,  there  is  no  scientific  theory  of  beauty,  and  science 
is  generally  considered  as  incompatible  with  an  apprecia- 
tion of  the  beautiful,  and  disposed  to  deny  the  importance 
of  esthetics.  Although  the  theories  that  are  presented 
are  largely  discredited  by  scientific  studies,  they  are  still 
popular,  and  influential  in  a  rhetorical  way. 

The  same  laws  that  have  been  applied  to  other  feelings 
apply  equally  well  to  the  esthetic.  A  thing  that  when 
seen  for  the  first  time  is  adjudged  to  be  beautiful,  becomes 
by  custom  unable  to  furnish  the  esthetic  feelings,  and 
may  be  reduced  to  the  rank  of  the  positively  ugly.  We 
see  examples  of  this  in  musical  selections  and  in  the 
domain  of  pictorial  art.  To  an  uncultivated  taste,  a  piece 
of  music  may  afford  the  highest  esthetic  enjoyment,  which 
after  a  greater  musical  experience  will  appear  positively 
painful.  The  gaudily  colored  pictures  of  the  tomato  can 
and  billboard  type  may  be  highly  appreciated  by  an  un- 
cultivated and  barbarous  taste,  but  be  a  source  of  painful 
intolerance  to  one  who  is  more  artistically  cultivated. 

Anything  that  is  exceedingly  common  is  not  consid- 
ered beautiful,  and  fails  to  arouse  in  us  a  pleasurable 


128  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

esthetic  feeling.  The  indifference  of  the  mountaineer  to 
the  beauties  of  his  surroundings  has  often  been  remarked, 
and  has  been  regarded  as  indicative  of  a  low  order  of  in- 
telligence. But  it  should  not  be  so  considered,  any  more 
than  should  the  failure  of  the  critic  to  discover  beauty 
in  the  flat  prairies  that  constitute  his  home,  nor  in  the 
common  plants  that  make  for  him  the  weeds  in  his  garden. 
Persons  who  are  troubled  every  spring  with  dandelions 
in  their  lawns  are  able  to  discover  beauties  in  the  edel- 
weiss which  the  dandelion  does  not  disclose.  The  grace- 
ful fern  is  perhaps  even  less  beautiful  than  is  the  rag- 
weed or  the  mullein,  but  its  beauty  must  be  determined 
by  its  ability  to  arouse  pleasurable  emotion  in  those  who 
view  the  different  plants.  The  flat  prairie  is  not  more 
monotonous  than  is  the  ocean  that  has  been  the  subject 
of  so  much  poetical  rhapsody. 

The  failure  to  see  beauty  in  a  common  weed,  or  to  dis- 
cover that  one's  own  dooryard  is  a  panorama  of  scenic 
beauty,  should  not  be  regarded  as  an  indication  of  a  lack 
of  esthetic  appreciation,  but  the  failure  to  experience 
esthetic  pleasure  in  these  too  common  scenes  is  merely 
another  indication  of  the  real  nature  of  esthetic  feeling 
and  its  affiliation  with  other  groups. 

The  perception  of  common  things  has  brought  about 
such  a  condition  of  the  brain  cells  involved  that  not  a 
sufficient  amount  of  resistance  is  engendered  to  accom- 
pany a  pleasurable  feeling,  so  we  fail  to  appreciate  the 
esthetic  value.  Ragtime,  a  street  piano,  popular  songs, 
a  hand  organ,  phonograph  music — are  all  capable  of  fur- 
nishing quite  as  much  pleasure  to  the  ear  of  one  who  has 
not  experienced  a  great  deal  of  music  as  is  the  finest 
oratorio  to  the  one  who  has  spent  years  in  musical  study. 
The  skilled  musician  was  at  one  time  able  to  appreciate 
the  beauty  of  the  hand  organ  or  ragtime.  When  such 
was  the  case,  classical  music  was  anything  but  pleasurable 
to  him.    The  simpler  music  furnished  a  sufficient  amount 


THE   PROBLEM   OF   ESTHETICS  129 

of  resistance  to  accompany  the  pleasurable  feeling,  but, 
by  habit,  the  resistance  diminished  and  the  feeling  aroused 
ceased  to  have  a  pleasurable  tone. 

On  the  other  hand,  nothing  is  likely  to  be  considered 
by  us  as  truly  beautiful  that  is  altogether  unknown  and 
unrelated  to  something  else  that  we  have  experienced. 
Such  an  object  of  contemplation  is  designated  as  the 
bizarre  and  ugly,  and  the  esthetic  feeling  accompanying 
its  perception  has  a  painful  tone.  The  ugly  is  as  truly 
a  subject  for  esthetic  consideration  as  is  the  beautiful. 
The  difference  between  the  ugly  and  the  beautiful  is  in 
the  tone  of  feeling  engendered  by  their  contemplation. 
The  ugly  is  somthing  with  which  we  are  usually  quite 
unfamiliar,  and  when  we  become  acquainted  with  it,  it 
ceases  to  be  ugly,  and  the  esthetic  feeling  acompanying  the 
perception  changes  to  one  having  a  pleasant  tone.  The 
amount  of  resistance  decreases,  thus  changing  the  tone 
of  the  feeling. 

There  is  really  little  advantage  in  attempting  to  make 
a  sharp  definition  of  beauty,  nor  to  delimit  the  esthetic 
feelings  from  the  other  groups.  The  definition  of  beauty 
will  always  involve  a  subjective  element,  and  a  thing  will 
be  beautiful  to  one  person  which  is  not  at  all  so  to  an- 
other. Beauty  can  be  defined  only  by  means  of  the  feel- 
ings which  it  arouses  in  persons,  and  the  feelings  vary 
in  different  persons  according  to  experience,  habit,  nat- 
ural constitution  and  pathological  conditions.  Any  phys- 
iological condition  that  will  modify  feeling,  will  by  the 
same  process  enter  into  the  judgment  of  the  beautiful. 
Hence  it  seems  to  be  the  case  that  there  can  be  no  abso- 
lute standard  of  beauty,  and  that  the  esthetic  feelings 
are  quite  largely  individual  and  subjective. 

Esthetic  feelings  determine  what  shall  be  called  beau- 
tiful. They  resemble  each  other  in  the  fact  that  they 
afford  pleasure  or  displeasure,  and  are  aroused  by  the 
mere  contemplation  of  the  objects  that  are  thereby  de- 


130  THE   FEELINGS  OP   MAN 

scribed  as  beautiful  or  ugly.  The  feeling  arises  from  the 
contemplation,  not  from  the  use  that  is  made  of  the  object 
contemplated. 

In  discussing  the  relations  the  esthetic  feelings  hold  to 
each  other  and  to  the  groups  of  feelings  already  de- 
scribed, we  must  first  of  all  discriminate  the  esthetic  from 
the  pseudo-esthetic.  Much  of  the  feeling  that  we  call 
esthetic  is  not  truly  so,  but  originates  in  another  circum- 
stance than  the  actual  qualities  of  the  object  whose  per- 
ception accompanies  the  feeling. 

Very  few  persons  will  trust  themselves  to  select  a  dia- 
mond from  the  stock  of  an  unreliable  dealer  and  decide 
upon  the  genuineness  of  the  stone  for  themselves.  This 
means  that  the  person  is  unable  to  discriminate  accu- 
rately the  genuine  from  the  false.  The  pleasure  derived 
from  looking  at  and  owning  the  imitation  ought  to  be  ex- 
actly that  which  is  derived  from  the  genuine,  but  such  is 
not  the  case.  A  person  who  takes  much  pleasure  in  own- 
ing and  wearing  a  large  diamond  that  he  believes  to  be 
genuine,  will  lose  much  of  the  pleasure  as  soon  as  he 
learns  that  it  is  an  imitation.  Just  the  difference  in  the 
pleasurable  feeling  experienced  in  wearing  the  genuine 
and  the  imitation  indicates  the  amount  of  feeling  in  such 
a  case,  that  is  pseudo-esthetic.  In  the  example  given,  we 
shall  see  that  nearly  all  the  pleasurable  feeling  is  pseudo- 
esthetic. 

Much  of  the  pleasurable  feeling  experienced  in  viewing 
a  noted  painting  is  pseudo-esthetic.  The  same  thing  is 
true  in  listening  to  the  rendition  of  a  musical  number  by 
some  celebrated  artist,  or  in  reading  some  famous  book. 
That  the  pleasurable  feeling  is  largely  pseudo-esthetic 
will  be  shown  by  the  test  previously  employed.  Let  the 
famous  singer  be  announced  under  another  name,  and  the 
selection  rendered  be  called  by  another  title  than  that  by 
which  it  is  well  known,  and  a  large  amount  of  the  pleasure 
will  be  wanting.    If  the  famous  painting  were  unlabeled, 


THE   PROBLEM    OP   ESTHETICS  131 

or  the  production  attributed  to  an  unknown  artist,  few 
persons  would  discover  that  it  manifested  great  beauty, 
and  a  much  smaller  amount  of  pleasure  would  be  expe- 
rienced in  looking  at  it.  Just  last  winter,  all  expert 
critics  of  art  in  Detroit  were  unable  to  decide  whether  a 
picture  of  St.  Augustine  was  worth  f  600  or  |50,000.  If  it 
were  painted  by  Murillo  or  Barbarelli  it  was  worth  the 
larger  sum.    But  if  not,  it  was  comparatively  valueless. 

No  one  will  be  so  rash  as  to  assert  that  the  pleasure 
derived  from  exhibiting  the  latest  fashions,  whether  in 
the  matter  of  clothes,  furniture,  houses,  sports,  or  sum- 
mer outings,  is  truly  esthetic.  If  it  were  possible  to  es- 
tablish an  absolute  standard  by  which  each  of  these  things 
might  be  judged,  few  would  venture  to  assert  that  the 
latest  fashions  would  more  nearly  correspond  to  it  than 
did  the  ones  which  they  displaced.  If  such  a  standard 
were  established,  not  many  of  the  fashionable  things 
whose  possession  and  exhibition  afford  so  much  pleasure 
would,  in  all  probability,  conform  to  it.  The  standard 
that  is  conformed  to  and  by  which  the  beauty  of  the  article 
is  judged  is  rather  that  of  the  reputably  correct  than  the 
esthetically  true. 

The  winding  paths  and  sidewalks  through  a  level  lawn 
are  supposed  to  represent  a  standard  of  beauty.  What 
they  really  represent  is  the  ability  to  spend  money  in  a 
manner  that  is  not  economically  productive.  So  the  hand- 
made furniture,  manifesting  defects  which  are  looked 
upon  as  evidences  of  the  genuineness  of  the  article,  con- 
forms to  the  standard  of  pecuniary  display  rather  than  to 
that  of  beauty.  A  photograph  is  or  may  be  as  artistically 
true  as  is  the  painting  of  the  same  scene.  The  preference 
for  the  painting  depends  not  upon  the  esthetic  value,  but 
the  pseudo-esthetic. 

The  same  thing  is  true  of  archaic  furniture  and  house- 
hold utensils.  The  original  owners  of  the  brass  candle- 
sticks and  high  posted  bedsteads  could  see  little  beauty 


132  THE   FEELINGS   OP    MAN 

in  them  when  the  fashion  changed.  They  were  so  com- 
mon, that  by  continued  seeing  the  nervous  impulses  ac- 
companying their  perception  encountered  little  resistance. 
Now,  that  the  objects  are  no  longer  common,  relic  hunters 
find  in  them  a  great  deal  of  beauty.  This  appreciation 
of  the  archaic  is  almost  altogether  pseudo-esthetic,  not 
esthetic. 

No  doubt  the  ancient  Greeks  thought  their  statuary 
beautiful.  But  if  they  had  had  an  opportunity  to  examine 
modern  statuary,  it  would  not  have  been  compared  to  their 
own  so  disadvantageously  by  them  as  it  is  by  modern 
critics.  Much  of  the  admiration  for  Greek  sculpture 
must  be  considered  pseudo-esthetic  and  explained  by  the 
principle  of  the  appreciation  of  the  archaic. 

The  standard  of  beauty  by  which  these  pseudo-esthetic 
feelings  are  aroused  is  that  of  the  reputably  correct.  This 
is,  however,  determined  by  several  circumstances.  It  can- 
not be  said  that  any  one  standard  applies  to  all  the  nu- 
merous examples  of  things  that  are  adjudged  beautiful, 
but  in  nearly  all  cases  it  will  be  found  that  the  ultimate 
standard  is  one  that  involves  a  conspicuous  expenditure 
of  money,  or  a  conspicuous  expenditure  of  time  in  a  non- 
economic  way.  New  clothes  may  not  be  more  efficient  nor 
more  beautiful  than  the  old,  but  the  new  represents  the 
ability  to  spend  money,  while  to  wear  the  old  might  be 
considered  as  indicative  of  a  desire  to  economize.  Hence 
the  new  is  to  be  preferred.  The  shine  on  a  coat  sleeve  is 
perhaps  not  less  beautiful  than  the  shine  on  one's  shoes, 
but  much  effort  must  be  expended  in  keeping  it  off  one 
and  putting  it  on  the  other.  So  some  articles  of  clothing 
are  regarded  as  esthetic  and  beautiful  that  are  detri- 
mental to  efficient  labor,  and  the  fact  that  it  is  impossible 
to  maintain  the  clothing  in  proper  condition  while  effect- 
ive labor  is  going  on  is  one  of  the  elements  in  adjudging 
such  articles  of  clothing  as  correct  and  beautiful. 

This  standard  of  beauty  is  a  conventional  one,  estab- 


THE   PROBLEM    OF   ESTHETICS  133 

lished  by  general  consent,  and  the  feelings  aroused  by  the 
contemplation  of  objects  conforming  to  it  depends  upon 
our  association  with  other  persons.  New  fashions;  ex- 
pensive ornaments ;  famous  attractions  of  scenery,  music, 
painting  or  architecture,  would  all  lose  much  of  their 
attractiveness  were  it  not  for  the  presence  and  judgment 
of  other  persons.  The  feelings  are  quite  as  real,  and  the 
pleasure  therefrom  is  certainly  as  valid  as  if  other  per- 
sons were  not  concerned. 

But  all  such  feelings  are  capable  of  being  aroused  only 
in  consequence  of  our  association  with  other  persons,  and 
this  is  a  suflScient  mark  of  distinction  to  enable  us  to 
group  them  together  under  the  name  pseudo-esthetic. 
Since  these  feelings  originate  in  the  relation  that  we  hold 
to  other  persons,  we  are  justified  in  classing  them  with 
the  community  preserving  feelings. 

A  different  standard  of  beauty  will  be  discovered  in 
another  group  of  esthetic  feelings.  Many  persons  regard 
little  children  as  beautiful,  and  there  are  very  few  parents 
who  are  not  susceptible  to  this  kind  of  esthetic  apprecia- 
tion. So  far  is  this  kind  of  esthetic  feeling  removed  from 
the  pseudo-esthetic,  that  every  parent  regards  his  own 
child  as  most  beautiful,  even  though  the  judgment  of 
nearly  every  one  else  may  contradict  his  own.  The  beauty 
of  his  own  child  that  appeals  to  him  does  not  depend  upon 
its  approximation  to  a  standard  that  is  reputably  cor- 
rect. A  parent  regards  all  children  from  a  different 
esthetic  standpoint  than  does  one  who  is  not  a  parent,  or 
one  in  whom  the  instinct  of  philoprogenitiveness  is  not 
strongly  developed.  The  judgment  of  beauty  and  the 
esthetic  feeling  accompanying  the  perception  of  an  object 
of  this  kind  must  be  associated  with  the  group  of  the  race 
perpetuating  feelings. 

To  the  same  group  belongs  the  judgment  of  beauty  and 
its  accompanying  feeling  that  arises  from  the  contem- 
plation of  the  lover  of  the  opposite  sex.    Here  if  anywhere 


134  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

there  is  no  accounting  for  tastes  and  the  judgment  of 
beauty  is  of  the  most  diverse  character.  There  is  prob- 
ably no  woman  who  is  not  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
the  world  to  some  man,  or  who  does  not  possess  the 
proper  qualifications  to  make  her  so  regarded. 

Much  of  the  beauty  that  is  discovered  in  dress  is  asso- 
ciated with  this  fact,  and  the  accompanying  feelings  be- 
long to  the  race  perpetuating  group.  Men  and  women 
differ  in  mental  and  physical  characteristics,  and  in  some 
qualities  that  appear  to  be  so  subtle  as  to  defy  description. 
Ornamentation  of  dress  that  seems  to  accentuate  these 
differences  is  adjudged  to  be  beautiful,  and  is  attractive 
to  persons  of  the  opposite  sex.  Only  such  an  explanation 
as  this  will  account  for  the  padding  of  the  coat  shoulders 
in  men,  and  the  equally  pronounced  padding  of  the  hips 
and  bust  in  women.  Nearly  every  characteristic  of  women's 
dress  that  is  adjudged  to  be  appropriate  for  the  most 
formal  occasions  may  be  accounted  for,  first  by  the  accen- 
tuation of  the  feminine  characteristics,  and  secondly  by 
its  manifesting  conspicuous  expenditure  of  money.  The 
feelings  that  are  aroused  by  the  one  element  of  beauty 
belong  to  the  race  perpetuating  group ;  and  those  that  are 
aroused  by  the  other  to  the  community  preserving  group. 

Two  different  classes  of  feelings  belong  to  the  egoistic, 
or  self  preserving  feelings,  and  two  different  standards  of 
beauty  are  employed  in  judging  of  objects  whose  contem- 
plation arouses  the  feelings.  Some  objects  are  judged  to 
be  beautiful  because  of  the  utility  they  manifest.  In 
times  of  distress  or  need,  the  object  that  assists  us  out  of 
our  difficulty  will  never  be  thought  of  as  ugly,  no  matter 
what  it  may  be.  The  thing  which  is  recognized  as  being 
perfectly  adapted  to  the  purpose  it  is  intended  to  serve 
will  be  adjudged  beautiful,  and  arouse  in  us  the  esthetic 
feeling.  This  is  the  esthetic  feeling  that  is  experienced 
when  examining  a  delicate  piece  of  machinery,  such  as  a 
watch  or  a  highclass  microscope,  a  locomotive  engine,  or 


THE   PROBLEM    OF   ESTHETICS  135 

an  X-ray  machine.  In  all  such  cases,  it  is  the  perception 
of  relations,  not  merely  of  the  objects,  that  accompanies 
the  esthetic  feelings.  This  is  the  source  of  esthetic  appre- 
ciation that  is  experienced  in  studying  the  natural  adapta- 
tions manifested  so  abundantly  in  animals  and  plants. 
Few  persons  have  ever  examined  carefully  the  mechanism 
employed  in  the  distribution  of  the  pollen  of  the  mountain 
laurel,  (Kalmia)  or  the  numerous  devices  Avhich  con- 
tribute to  the  reproduction  in  the  ragweed,  (Ambrosia) 
or  the  adaptive  mechanisms  in  the  giant  water  bug,  ( Belos- 
toma)  without  experiencing  this  kind  of  esthetic  enjoy- 
ment. 

While  some  writers  upon  esthetics  assume  that  this 
principle  of  utility  is  the  universal  principle  of  beauty, 
there  are  many  persons  who  assert  that  such  illustrations 
as  are  here  adduced  are  not  examples  of  beauty  and 
esthetic  appreciation  at  all.  It  may  perhaps  be  properly 
a  question  whether  they  come  under  the  head  of  esthetics, 
but  whatever  the  feelings  may  be  called  that  are  aroused 
by  the  contemplation  of  such  objects  as  the  mechanisms 
of  the  ragweed,  Belostoma,  and  Kalmia,  they  belong  to 
the  egoistic,  or  self  preserving  group.  Personally  the 
writer  is  inclined  to  describe  them  as  esthetic  of  the  most 
pronounced  character. 

Occasionally  this  kind  of  judgment  of  the  beautiful  con- 
flicts with  that  which  belongs  to  the  community  preserv- 
ing, or  pseudo-esthetic  group.  The  winding  sidewalks 
through  a  level  lawn  cannot  be  considered  beautiful  when 
judged  by  the  standard  of  utility.  Their  beauty  is  deter- 
mined by  the  pseudo-esthetic  standards,  and  in  this  case 
it  is  especially  the  pecuniary  standard  of  conspicuous  ex- 
penditure. But  when  a  person  is  able  to  demonstrate  his 
ability  to  spend  money  in  unprofitable  ways  more  em- 
phatically than  this  would  indicate,  it  is  very  likely  that 
his  standard  of  beauty  will  demand  straight  sidewalks. 
So  while  the  moderately  wealthy  are  likely  to  appreciate 


136  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

the  beauty  of  outside  ornamentation  of  their  dwellings, 
the  excessively  rich  are  as  likely  to  find  more  beauty  in  a 
mansion  that  is  severely  plain.  The  gingerbread  Queen 
Anne  architecture  appeals  only  to  persons  in  a  certain 
stage  of  pecuniary  culture.  The  same  thing  will  account 
for  the  attraction  that  mission  furniture  has  for  those 
who  are  notoriously  able  to  spend  money,  so  that  there 
is  no  probability  that  they  adopt  mission  furniture  for  the 
purposes  of  economy,  although  it  has  an  added  attraction 
of  novelty  in  the  fact  that  it  is  not  the  usual  furnishings 
of  the  house  in  which  most  of  those  who  admire  it  have 
been  reared. 

The  other  group  of  the  esthetic  feelings  that  must  be 
classed  with  the  self  preserving,  or  egoistic,  is  that  which 
involves  directly  the  activity  of  the  senses.  This  is  the 
esthetic  feeling  accompanying  the  perception  of  the  rain- 
bow, or  wild  flowers,  or  scenic  beauty  that  is  not  that  of 
some  noted  locality  such  as  Niagara  Falls  would  be.  This 
is  the  true,  genuine,  esthetic  feeling,  accompanying  the 
play  activity  of  the  senses,  and  which  justifies  more 
nearly  than  any  other  esthetic  feeling,  Herbert  Spencer's 
determination  of  the  association  of  esthetic  activities 
with  play. 

Thus  the  esthetic  feelings  fall  naturally  into  the  three 
groups  whose  functions  have  been  already  described,  and 
there  is  no  necessity  for  establishing  a  separate  group  to 
include  them.  We  see  also  that  it  is  impossible  that  there 
shall  be  any  single  standard  of  beauty,  or  any  single  prin- 
ciple to  which  all  judgments  of  what  is  beautiful  must 
conform.  There  is  no  single  type  of  esthetic  feeling,  but 
there  are  as  many  kinds  of  esthetic  feelings  as  there  are 
standards  of  beauty.  We  have  described  two  kinds  that 
belong  to  the  self-preserving  group,  two  that  are  affiliated 
with  the  race  perpetuating  group,  and  one,  two  or  many 
that  have  affiliations  with  the  community  preserving 
group,   and  which  we  have  called  the  pseudo-esthetic. 


THE   PROBLEM    OF   ESTHETICS  137 

Each  particular  type  of  feeling  will  have  its  own  standard 
by  which  the  beauty  of  the  thing  whose  perception  accom- 
panies the  esthetic  feeling  will  be  judged. 

It  remains  for  us  to  show  the  function  that  the  esthetic 
feelings  have  had  in  the  development  of  the  race.  Our 
fundamental  proposition  is  that  every  feeling  has  now, 
or  has  had  in  the  recent  past,  some  function  that  has  in- 
ured to  the  benefit  of  the  individual  or  of  the  race.  Al- 
though the  esthetic  feelings  have  been  shown  to  belong 
to  the  several  groups  whose  function  we  have  been  able 
to  demonstrate,  yet  it  is  necessary  in  case  of  the  esthetic 
feelings,  to  show  how  they  may  in  themselves  have  been 
advantageous. 

The  suggestion  of  Herbert  Spencer,  that  the  esthetic 
feelings  have  their  origin  in  play,  furnishes  a  key  to  the 
understanding  of  the  whole  situation.  While  only  that 
group  of  esthetic  feelings  that  constitute  one  of  the  two 
divisions  belonging  to  the  self  preserving  feelings  can  be 
truly  called  play,  yet  the  demonstration  of  the  utility  of 
play  will  explain  for  us  the  whole  function  of  esthetics. 
An  explanation  of  the  esthetic  functions  can  be  afforded 
only  by  some  kind  of  a  physiological  or  biological  hypo- 
thesis. 

Let  us  suppose  that  of  the  seven  hundred  million  or 
more  brain  cells,  three  hundred  million  of  them  are  in- 
volved in  the  experiences  that  occur  in  the  ordinary  ac- 
tivities of  the  human  being.  Every  activity  that  preserves 
the  individual,  performs  the  functions  of  society  and  per- 
petuates the  race,  demands  the  transmission  of  impulses 
through  some  combination  of  cells  in  the  three  hundred 
million.  The  other  four  hundred  million  are  lying  fallow 
and  undeveloped.  If,  now,  some  experience  should  be 
brought  about  that  would  involve  some  of  the  new  and 
undeveloped  cells,  the  resistance  encountered  in  the  new 
combination  would  be  pleasurable,  if  not  too  intense,  and 
the  cells  previously  undeveloped  would  be  brought  into 


138  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

activity.  We  might  call  the  activity  play,  and  the  accom- 
panying feeling  esthetic. 

A  nervous  impulse  demands  the  liberation  of  some 
amount  of  nervo-motive  force,  and  is  itself  the  best  evi- 
dence of  the  force  which  is  liberated.  The  probability 
is  that  the  nerve  force  is  liberated  in  the  developed  cells. 
The  katabolic  processes  that  liberate  the  energy  occur  in 
the  cell  bodies.  While  it  is  possible  that  the  nerve  force 
is  liberated  in  some  other  elements  of  the  brain,  few  phys- 
iologists are  likely  to  question  the  statement  that  it  is 
liberated  in  the  developed  neurons.  Neurons  become  de- 
veloped in  consequence  of  their  exercising  activity  which 
is  manifested  by  the  oxidation  of  their  tissues  and  its 
sequential  restoration,  and  the  transmission  of  impulses 
through  them. 

Granting  the  validity  of  this  speculation,  it  follows 
that  the  esthetic  feelings  accompanying  the  resistance 
encountered  in  transmitting  impulses  through  combina- 
tions involving  cells  belonging  to  areas  that  we  have 
called  fallow,  will  call  into  action  and  demand  the  de- 
velopment of  cells  that  otherwise  would  never  become 
functional. 

The  hearing  center  in  the  brain  becomes  developed  by 
means  of  hearing  sounds  incident  to  every  day  life.  As 
a  result  of  such  experiences,  only  a  small  part  of  the  num- 
ber of  cells  in  the  hearing  center  would  ever  become  de- 
veloped. Music  involves  a  much  larger  number  of  sounds 
and  sound  combinations  than  would  ever  be  experienced 
by  a  person  without  musical  training.  Hence  it  is  that 
the  hearing  center  of  persons  with  a  wide  musical  expe- 
rience would  contain  a  much  larger  number  of  developed 
neurons  than  would  the  hearing  center  of  the  same  person 
if  he  had  never  had  the  musical  experience. 

The  same  thing  may  be  said  of  the  esthetic  feelings 
accompanying  the  activity  of  the  sense  of  sight.  Every 
new  thing  seen  encourages  the  development  of  a  large 


THE   PROBLEM    OF   ESTHETICS  139 

number  of  cells,  and  in  esthetics,  new  things  are  to  be 
looked  at.  Only  things  more  or  less  new  are  capable  of 
arousing  the  esthetic  feeling.  Novelty  and  something  dif- 
ferent are  always  conditions  of  the  esthetic  feeling.  It 
must  not  be  too  new,  too  novel  and  unrelated,  or  the  effect 
will  be  painful  and  the  esthetic  advantage  will  be  lost. 

Esthetic  experiences,  then,  permit  and  encourage  the 
development  of  neurons  that  would  otherwise  never  be- 
come functional.  In  the  developed  neurons,  nerve  force 
is  generated,  tissue  is  oxidized,  and  the  esthetic  expe- 
riences are  likely  to  result  in  liberating  a  considerably 
greater  amount  of  nervous  energy  than  would  be  possible 
were  it  not  for  the  neurons  developed  by  them.  The 
greater  amount  of  energy  liberated  in  the  brain,  the  bet- 
ter will  all  the  mental  functions  be  performed.  So  we 
have  from  the  esthetic  experiences  and  the  esthetic  feel- 
ings which  accompany  them,  a  direct  and  an  indirect  ad- 
vantage in  the  growth  of  the  species  and  the  race. 

This  does  not  mean  that  in  any  particular  case,  a  per- 
son who  has  an  esthetic  appreciation  will  be  capable  of 
generating  a  larger  amount  of  nervous  energy  than  will 
another  particular  individual  who  has  not  such  esthetic 
experience;  but  it  means  that  the  person  who  has  had  the 
esthetic  experience  will  be  capable  of  generating  a  larger 
amount  of  nervous  energy  than  that  same  person  would 
be  able  to  do  if  he  had  not  had  the  esthetic  experience. 
In  the  aggregate,  then,  the  esthetic  experiences  favor  the 
development  of  nervous  energy  and  intellectual  power. 
The  persons  and  the  nations  who  have  the  highest  esthetic 
appreciation,  will,  other  things  being  taken  into  account, 
be  able  to  accomplish  the  greater  amount  of  intellectual 
work,  and  be  the  best  fitted  to  survive  in  the  struggle  for 
existence. 

Our  theory  will  show  why  it  is  that  only  the  pleasurable 
esthetic  feelings  can  be  serviceable,  and  why  there  is  the 
disposition  to  limit  the  field  of  esthetics  to  the  pleasant 


140  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

feelings.  A  painful  feeling  is  the  accompaniment  of  a  re- 
sistance greater  than  is  beneficial  to  the  cell  or  to  the 
organism.  If  the  resistance  is  great,  the  tissue  will  be 
used  up  faster  than  it  can  be  restored,  and  the  final  result 
will  be  injurious.  Hence  it  is  that  the  painful  esthetic 
feelings,  those  which  accompany  the  judgment  of  the  ugly, 
are  not  helpful  to  the  growth  of  the  neuroblasts,  nor  to 
the  development  of  the  greater  energy  than  would  be  lib- 
erated in  the  absence  of  the  esthetic  experiences. 

Synopsis. 

1 — Esthetic  feelings  are  those  which  accompany  the 
perception  of  an  ot)ject  that  is  judged  to  he  beautiful  or 


2 — It  is  unnecessary  to  establish  a  fourth  group  for 
the  esthetic  feelings,  since  all  of  them  may  he  distributed 
among  the  self  preserving,  the  community  preserving,  and 
the  race  perpetuating  groups. 

3 — Pseudo-esthetic  feelings  are  those  arising  from  the 
contemplation  of  objects  which  are  judged  to  be  beauti- 
ful according  to  a  standard  established  by  society,  or  the 
community  as  a  whole.  They  belong  to  the  community 
preserving  group. 

4 — There  is  no  single  standard  of  beauty  to  which  all 
objects  can  be  made  to  conform. 

5 — The  truly  esthetic  feelings  are  those  arising  most 
nearly  from  the  exercise  of  the  senses.  Such  activities 
conform  most  closely  to  the  definition  of  play. 

6 — Esthetic  feelings  afford  the  same  advantage  that 
comes  from  play.  They  assist  in  the  development  of  a 
larger  number  of  neurons  than  would  otherwise  become 
developed,  and  so  favor  the  liberation  of  a  greater  amount 
of  nervous  energy. 


Chapter    IX 
THE  RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  INTELLECT. 

It  must  be  evident  from  what  has  already  been  stated 
that  there  is  a  very  close  relation  between  the  intellectual 
process  and  feeling.  They  are  not  separated  in  time,  nor 
is  there  a  sequential  relation  between  them.  The  relation 
is  not  that  of  cause  and  effect,  for  feeling  cannot  be  con- 
sidered the  cause  of  the  intellect,  nor  the  intellect  the 
cause  of  the  feeling. 

Many  writers  upon  psychology  have  regarded  feeling 
as  an  obscure,  weak,  indefinite  intellectual  process,  or  a 
process  which  when  it  becomes  clear  and  definite  is  in- 
tellect. Intellect  is  thus  regarded  as  having  its  origin  in 
feeling,  and  changes  from  feeling  to  intellect  by  becoming 
definite  and  clear.  Even  some  of  our  most  prominent  psy- 
chologists of  the  present  day  are  inclined  to  consider  the 
essential  difference  between  intellect  and  feeling  as  one 
of  clearness.  They  would  say  that  intellect  grows  out  of 
feeling  through  a  process  of  attention. 

Such  a  theory  would  explain  nicely  the  reciprocal  re- 
lation between  intellect  and  feeling,  and  would  permit  a 
satisfactory  explanation  of  the  specific  differences  in  feel- 
ings; but  it  utterly  fails  to  explain  the  whole  series  of 
phenomena  in  which  there  is  manifested  a  direct  relation 
between  feeling  and  intellect,  nor  can  it  by  any  possi- 
bility account  for  the  fact  that  feeling  may  be  intensified 
by  a  process  of  attention.  It  is  a  hypothesis  that  can  be 
justified  only  by  neglecting  a  large  number  of  the  facts. 

To  the  psychologists  who  have  regarded  intellect  and 
feeling  both  as  activities  of  a  self  active  entity,  the  rela- 

141 


14^  THE    FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

tion  has  naturally  appeared  to  be  not  a  very  close  one. 
The  mind  could  work  in  one  way  or  it  could  work  in  the 
other  as  it  pleased.  However,  that  mind  which  had  most 
power  in  one  direction  was  very  likely  to  have  a  corre- 
spondingly large  power  in  the  other.  Hence  we  find  the 
older  psychologists  emphasizing  the  fact  that  whatever 
the  relation  between  feeling  and  intellect  might  be,  when- 
ever we  found  a  man  who  manifested  a  great  deal  of  one, 
we  were  likely  to  find  him  also  manifesting  much  of  the 
other.  Quotations  from  two  popular  elementary  text- 
books of  tAventy-five  years  ago  will  clearly  illustrate  the 
general  opinion  among  psychologists  of  that  day. 

''The  relation  of  the  sensibilities  to  the  intellect  is  easily 
understood.  An  act  of  the  sensibilities  is  usually  pre- 
ceded by  one  of  the  intellect.  .  .  .  The  strength  of  the 
feeling  is  usually  proportional  to  the  strength  of  the  in- 
tellect. When  the  cognition  of  the  intellect  is  deep  and 
vivid,  the  feelings  arising  will  be  strong  and  vivid." 
(Brooks,  Mental  Science  and  Culture.) 

''The  range  and  power  of  the  sensibilities,  the  mind's 
capacity  for  feeling,  depends  upon  the  range  and  vigor 
of  the  intellectual  powers.  Within  certain  limits,  the  one 
varies  as  the  other.  The  man  of  strong  and  vigorous  mind 
is  capable  of  stronger  emotion  than  the  man  of  dwarfed 
and  puny  intellect.''     (Haven,  Mental  Philosophy.) 

It  can  be  seen  how  naturally  a  writer  who  considered 
feeling  and  intellect  as  a  manifestation  in  different  direc- 
tion of  the  power  of  a  mind  should  regard  the  two  as 
directly  related  to  each  other.  No  connection  of  a  causal 
nature  could  be  imagined,  but  the  mind  manifested  its 
strength  in  one  direction  as  certainly  as  in  another. 

The  larger  number  of  psychologists  of  recent  years  have 
emphasized  the  difference  between  intellect  and  feeling 
rather  than  the  similarity.  It  is  a  common  expression 
to  speak  of  the  opposition  between  the  head  and  the  heart, 
and  the  meaning  of  this  extraordinary  physiological  as- 


THE  RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  INTELLECT      143 

sumption  is  that  feeling  and  intellect  have  some  kind  of 
an  opposing  relation  to  each  other.  It  would  seem,  how- 
ever, that  the  opposing  relation  is  not  one  of  reciprocity, 
but  one  of  direct  conflict  in  determining  a  course  of  ac- 
tion. The  opposition  is  very  different  in  its  nature  from 
that  which  is  obtained  from  a  rational,  physiological  in- 
terpretation of  feeling. 

The  fact  has  already  been  mentioned  that  many  physi- 
ological psychologists  are  inclined  to  assume  a  separate 
system  of  end  organs,  nerve  carriers,  and  brain  centers 
for  feeling  from  those  that  are  involved  in  the  intellectual 
processes.  Especially  is  this  true  for  the  feeling  pro- 
cesses of  the  simplest  kind,  the  physical  feelings  that 
accompany  sensations,  the  affection  proper.  The  assump- 
tion of  end  organs  and  brain  centers  for  physical  pain, 
and  its  discrimination  from  mental  unpleasantness  is  a 
manifestation  of  this  tendency.  Nearly  all  psychologists 
who  consider  all  physical  pain  as  a  sensation,  regard  feel- 
ing as  obscure  and  indefinite  intellect.  The  latter  opinion 
has  in  all  probability  influenced  the  adoption  of  the  for- 
mer. However,  it  seems  safe  to  predict  that  such  a  tend- 
ency is  not  likely  to  proceed  much  farther  than  it  has 
already  gone. 

Among  the  new  psychologists,  however,  there  are  two 
radically  different  opinions  concerning  the  relation  be- 
tween intellect  and  feeling.  The  one  regards  them  as  so 
related  that  one  varies  with  the  other.  Gardiner,  in  a 
review  of  SoUier's  book.  The  Mechanism  of  the  Emotions, 
rather  laments  the  fact  that  Sollier  considers  that  emo- 
tion is  at  the  expense  of  effective  intellectual  w^ork.  This 
opinion  of  Gardiner,  shared  by  many  present-day  psy- 
chologists, has  a  different  origin  from  the  same  opinion 
held  by  the  psychologists  of  twenty-five  years  ago.  It  is 
supported  by  observation  rather  than  theories,  although 
the  observations   are  interpreted  in  an  unsatisfactory 


144  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

manner.     A  true  interpretation  will  show  that  the  ob- 
servations do  not  warrant  such  a  conclusion. 

But  there  are  not  wanting  psychologists  who  hold  that 
the  two  processes  are  closely  related,  and  that  the  re- 
lation is  a  reciprocal  one.  Thus  Ribot  says  ''It  is  highly 
probable  that  in  the  state  of  surprise  we  have  imperfect 
knowledge  because  we  have  too  much  sensation."  {Atten- 
tion, p.  25.)  The  context  shows  that  by  this  use  of  the 
word  sensation  the  translator  means  feeling.  And  so 
Hoffding  remarks,  ''Cognition  and  feeling  must  thus 
stand  in  inverse  relation  to  each  other.  The  more  strongly 
one  is  manifested,  the  less  strength  is  at  the  command 
of  the  other."  (Psychology,  p.  98.)  And  again  (p.  232)  : 
"In  respect  of  strength  they  [feeling  and  sensation]  stand 
in  inverse  relation  to  each  other,  so  that  the  stronger  the 
feeling  becomes,  the  more  the  properly  sense-perceptive, 
or  cognitive  element  disappears." 

Spencer,  {Psychology,  Vol.  I,  p.  478)  recognized  the 
same  fact.  He  says  "These  several  expositions,  I  think, 
make  it  clear  that  cognition  and  feeling,  throughout  all 
phases  of  their  evolution,  are  at  once  antithetical  and  in- 
separable." 

Whatever  may  be  the  relation  between  feeling  and  in- 
tellect, we  may  be  very  sure  that  a  corresponding  rela- 
tion exists  between  their  physiological  concomitants.  If 
we  can  determine  what  the  concomitants  of  the  two  proc- 
esses may  be,  we  shall  have  a  means  of  describing  and  pic- 
turing in  understandable  terms  the  relation  between  in- 
tellect and  feeling. 

We  have  based  our  whole  interpretation  of  feeling  upon 
the  hypothesis  that  it  has  for  its  physiological  correlate 
the  resistance  that  a  nervous  impulse  encounters  in  pass- 
ing through  a  nervous  arc.  In  the  process  of  perception, 
sensation,  act  of  reasoning,  or  judging,  an  impulse  must 
pass  through  some  combination  of  brain  cells.  If  we  con- 
sider the  passage  through  the  arc  as  the  concomitant  of 


THE   RELATION  OF   FEELING  TO   INTELLECT  145 

the  intellectual  process,  and  the  resistance  that  the  cur- 
rent encounters  as  the  concomitant  of  feeling,  we  have 
an  easy  way  of  picturing  the  relation  between  the  two 
processes,  and  our  theory  corroborates  the  observations 
of  those  persons  who  conceive  the  two  processes  to  be 
reciprocally  related. 

The  greater  the  amount  of  nervous  energy  that  passes 
through  the  arc,  the  greater  the  amount  of  intellectual 
work  that  is  accomplished.  From  this  hypothesis  there 
will  be  little  dissent,  for  the  conception  is  a  common  one. 
Every  observation  of  the  learning  process  confirms  it. 
Every  theory  of  learning,  interest,  exercise,  attention, 
good  health,  constant  study,  all  of  them  are  partial  appli- 
cations of  this  hypothesis,  and  arise  from  a  consideration 
of  only  one  factor  in  the  determination  of  the  amount  of 
nervous  energy  that  is  transmitted. 

The  effect  of  resistance  is  to  stop  out  part  of  the  cur- 
rent and  to  diminish  the  amount  that  succeeds  in  passing 
through  the  arc.  The  greater  the  portion  of  the  nervous 
current  that  is  stopped  out  by  the  resistance,  the  greater 
the  amount  of  feeling  that  will  be  experienced,  and  the 
smaller  will  be  the  portion  that  remains  for  the  doing  of 
intellectual  work.  This  is  the  general  law,  and  no  ex- 
ception will  be  found  when  the  law  is  properly  stated. 

The  relation  is  quite  similar  to  that  of  the  ohm  and 
the  ampere  in  an  electric  current.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered, however,  that  this  is  merely  an  analogy,  and  must 
be  modified  very  much  before  the  ohm  can  be  considered 
as  an  accurate  illustration  of  the  resistance  in  a  nervous 
current.  Likewise  the  conception  of  ampere  must  be  de- 
cidedly changed  before  it  can  be  made  to  apply  to  the  ele- 
ment of  the  nervous  current  that  corresponds  to  the  in- 
tellectual process. 

We  may  state  the  law  that  subsumes  the  relation  be- 
tween intellect  and  feeling,  in  something  like  the  follow- 
ing manner:     (a)  With  a  a  given  amount  of  nervous  en- 


146  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

ergy,  the  greater  the  feeling,  the  less  the  amount  of  in- 
tellectual work  that  will  be  done,  (b)  With  a  given 
amount  of  nervous  energy,  the  less  the  feeling,  the  greater 
the  amount  of  intellectual  work  that  may  be  done. 

In  the  above  statement  of  the  first  law  of  feeling,  we 
have  assumed  that  the  amount  of  nervous  energy  remains 
the  same  throughout.  The  resistance  then,  depends  upon 
the  condition  of  the  nervous  conductor  in  which  it  is  en- 
countered. But  there  are  two  variables  in  the  measure- 
ment of  resistance,  and  they  vary  independently  of  each 
other,  which  makes  the  calculation  of  their  resultant 
difficult.  The  other  variable  factor  is  the  amount  of  ner- 
vous energy,  and  this  necessitates  the  statement  of  a  law 
especially  applicable  to  it.  The  second  law  of  the  relation 
between  feeling  and  intellect  may  be  stated  as  follows: 
With  a  given  nervous  arc,  the  amount  of  feeling  and  of  in- 
tellectual work  will  vary  with  the  amount  of  nervous 
energy.  With  a  given  nervous  arc,  the  greater  the  amount 
of  feeling,  the  more  intellectual  work  will  be  accom- 
plished ;  and  with  a  given  nervous  arc,  the  less  feeling, 
the  less  intellectual  work  that  may  be  done. 

Here  it  seems  as  if  we  had  two  laws  that  are  contra- 
dictory to  each  other,  and  this  is  the  explanation  of  the 
contradictory  interpretations  and  theories  of  feeling  that 
have  been  entertained.  The  amount  of  feeling  that  is 
experienced,  and  the  relation  between  the  amount  of  feel- 
ing and  the  intellectual  work  that  may  be  accomplished 
at  any  time  is  the  resultant  of  these  two  contradictory 
laws.  However,  the  two  laws,  when  properly  understood 
will  be  seen  to  be  statements  of  the  same  law:  to  wit. 
The  relation  of  feeling  to  intellect  varies  directly  as  the 
strength  of  the  current  and  inversely  as  the  resisting 
power  of  the  nervous  arc. 

There  is  also  a  third  variable,  mentioned  in  chapter 
IV  that  produces  confusion  in  observation,  and  some- 
times conceals  the  effect  of  the  general  law.    This  variable 


THE  RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  INTELLECT      147 

is  attention,  which  will  be  considered  in  a  subsequent 
chapter,  and  it  is  possible  that  an  explanation  of  some 
of  the  phenomena  growing  out  of  the  relation  between 
feeling  and  intellect  will  have  to  be  deferred  until  that 
discussion  is  reached. 

Let  us  look  at  some  of  the  illustrations  of  the  first  law 
of  the  relation  in  which  the  nature  of  the  conducting  arc 
is  considered  the  variable.  We  find  that  it  is  impossible 
to  do  very  much  intellectual  work  of  any  kind  when  we 
are  experiencing  much  feeling.  A  toothache  is  never  con- 
ducive to  study,  nor  is  the  time  just  before  dinner  the 
best  hour  in  the  day  for  attacking  difficult  lessons.  A 
cold  room  or  an  exceedingly  hot  day  are  neither  of  them 
satisfactory  conditions  for  the  best  work  of  students. 
Anything  that  causes  us  to  experience  considerable  feel- 
ing is  far  from  being  helpful  to  study. 

Quite  as  serious  as  physical  pain  is  the  existence  of  a 
series  of  circumstances  that  induce  mental  unpleasant- 
ness. An  angry  man  cannot  tell  whether  he  is  eating 
boiled  cabbage  or  stewed  umbrellas.  The  serious  illness 
or  death  of  a  beloved  relative  or  friend  is  totally  destruct- 
ive to  our  ability  to  study,  or  to  do  much  intellectual 
work  of  any  kind. 

Misfortune  in  any  direction,  in  business,  financial  af- 
fairs, family  relations,  the  disappointment  of  our  ambi- 
tions— any  and  all  of  these  things  are  sufficient  to  dis- 
tract us,  which  means  that  we  are  thereby  rendered  in- 
capable of  exhibiting  our  usual  intellectual  acumen,  seeing 
what  is  best  to  do,  judging  wisely,  acting  up  to  our  best 
lights. 

"A  man  who  pleads  his  own  case  in  court  of  law  has  a 
fool  for  a  client.''  This  saying  is  a  blunt  recognition  of 
the  fact  that  a  man  who  is  in  such  difficulty  as  to  have 
a  case  in  court  is  not  capable  of  judging  what  is  best  to 
be  done,  and  that  a  lawyer  who  feels  the  situation  much 
less  keenly  is  cheap  at  half  the  money.    That  a  physician 


148  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

will  not  treat  the  members  of  his  own  family,  but  calls 
in  some  other  physician  when  one  of  them  is  sick,  does 
not  imply  that  he  lacks  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  his  own 
medicine,  but  that  he  is  unable  to  exercise  his  best  judg- 
ment concerning  the  course  of  treatment.  A  man  is  never 
the  best  judge  of  his  own  case  and  that  merely  because 
he  experiences  too  much  feeling.  He  may  be  a  good  ad- 
viser for  some  one  else,  but  he  is  likely,  if  he  experiences 
much  feeling,  to  make  serious  errors  in  deciding  what  is 
best  for  him  to  do.  This  is  in  keeping  with  the  statement 
that  we  are  often  very  much  influenced  by  our  feelings. 
We  fail  to  do  what  is  best  because  the  feelings  that  we 
experience  obscure  our  vision,  and  the  proper  thing  for 
us  to  do  does  not  stand  out  in  the  clearness  that  is  neces- 
sary for  it  to  eventuate  in  proper  action. 

It  is  a  recognition  of  the  reciprocal  relation  between 
feeling  and  intellect  that  lies  at  the  basis  of  the  demand 
that  a  judge  shall  not  be  an  interested  party  in  any  case 
that  comes  up  for  trial  in  his  court.  It  is  no  reflection 
upon  his  honesty  that  makes  it  necessary  for  him  to  re- 
sign his  place,  but  a  practical  recognition  of  a  psycho- 
logical fact. 

Less  influential,  but  still  serious,  is  the  pleasant  feel- 
ing that  we  experience.  Sometimes  we  are  too  much  en- 
raptured to  make  the  best  intellectual  judgment.  The  re- 
ceipt of  good  news,  such  as  might  be  the  fact  that  we  had 
suddenly  fallen  heir  to  a  million  dollars,  or  our  appoint- 
ment to  a  much  desired  or  lucrative  position,  or  an  invi- 
tation to  take  a  longed  for  journey — any  of  these  things 
that  engender  pleasant  feelings  of  a  rather  high  degree  of 
intensity,  is  destructive  for  a  time  of  our  ability  to  apply 
our  intellectual  energies  to  the  learning  of  lessons  or  the 
solving  of  problems.  Even  the  curiosity  manifested  in 
taking  up  a  new  subject  of  study  is  likely  to  interfere 
with  its  mastery  until  the  feeling  of  newness,  curiosity, 
and  wonder  has  disappeared.    Feeling,  no  matter  whether 


THE   RELATION   OF   FEELING  TO   INTELLECT  149 

it  is  pleasant  or  unpleasant,  is  detrimental  to  the  work 
that  it  is  possible  for  us  to  do. 

It  is  true  that  pleasant  feelings  are  less  destructive  to 
the  intellectual  work  than  are  painful  feelings,  or  perhaps 
it  would  be  better  to  put  it  the  other  way  and  say  that 
painful  feelings  are  more  detrimental  to  intellectual  work 
than  are  pleasurable  feelings.  The  reason  for  this  will 
appear  in  our  explanation  of  the  difference  between  pain- 
ful and  pleasurable  feelings.  As  a  general  rule,  painful 
feelings  are  the  concomitants  of  resistances  of  a  greater 
degree  of  intensity  than  are  pleasurable.  An  increase  of 
intensity  up  to  a  certain  point  increases  the  pleasurable 
feeling,  beyond  which  point  the  feeling  comes  to  have  a 
painful  tone.  The  painful  feeling  is  the  concomitant  of  a 
greater  resistance,  and  tends  to  stop  out  a  greater  amount 
of  the  nervous  energy,  rendering  a  smaller  portion  of  it 
available  for  doing  intellectual  work.  The  very  best  in- 
tellectual work  will  be  done  with  the  least  fatigue,  when 
there  is  no  feeling  accompanying  the  process.  Any  kind 
of  feeling,  pleasant  or  unpleasant,  is  detrimental  to  doing 
the  greatest  amount  of  work  with  a  given  amount  of 
energy.  Here  we  have  another  example  of  the  law  of 
habit.  Only  those  activities  that  are  done  as  the  result 
of  incessant  practice  are  done  as  well  as  they  may  be. 
It  is  the  inevitable  psychological  law  that  feeling  detracts 
from  the  possibility  of  doing  the  best  intellectual  work. 

Habit  not  only  decreases  resistance,  and  diminishes 
feeling,  but  it  increases  the  amount  of  work  that  can  be 
done  by  the  expenditure  of  a  given  amount  of  energy.  We 
are  inclined  to  put  as  our  best  illustrations  of  habit  the 
doing  of  some  muscular  act.  But  mental  habit  is  just 
as  important  and  as  readily  observable  as  is  muscular 
habit.  The  work  of  learning  a  column  of  the  multiplica- 
tion table  demands  the  expenditure  of  a  considerable 
amount  of  energy,  and  is  ordinarily  accompanied  by  a 
feeling  having  a  painful  tone.     But  after  a  number  of 


150  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

repetitions,  the  lessons  can  be  repeated  with  the  expendi- 
ture of  much  less  energy,  and  with  actual  pleasure,  or 
no  feeling  at  all. 

The  reciprocal  relation  between  feeling  and  intellect 
may  be  well  recognized  in  the  processes  of  children.  Chil- 
dren are  tremendous  generators  of  energy.  The  plasticity 
of  their  tissues,  the  rapidity  of  the  changes  that  occur  in 
them,  the  fact  of  growth  which  is  itself  dependent  upon 
the  metabolic  changes  of  which  the  liberation  of  energy 
is  one  effect — all  of  these  things  indicate  how  great  is 
the  amount  of  nervous  energy  that  little  children  gener- 
ate. Growth  itself  is  an  indication  of  the  development  of 
much  nervous  energy.  Growth  of  any  tissue  would,  if  not 
stopped  entirely,  be  at  least  very  much  retarded  if  the 
generation  of  nervous  energy  at  any  time  were  to  be  im- 
paired or  diminished.  If  any  organ  in  the  body  is  de- 
prived of  its  supply  of  nervous  energy,  such  as  would 
result  from  the  cutting  of  the  nerve  that  leads  to  it,  that 
organ  would  become  paralyzed  and  soon  atrophy. 

The  tremendous  activity  of  children  manifested  in  play 
is  indicative  of  the  liberation  and  expenditure  of  a  large 
amount  of  nervous  energy.  But  children  are  capable  of 
little  intellectual  work.  One  would  suppose  that  with 
the  amount  of  nervous  energy  available,  little  children 
would  be  able  to  do  much,  but  its  universality  is  such 
that  the  little  capacity  of  children  for  intellectual  work 
excites  no  comment. 

We  have  already  recognized  the  fact  that  children  are 
creatures  of  feeling,  crying  or  laughing,  rejoicing  or  sor- 
rowing, almost  all  the  time.  We  know,  too,  that  the 
brain  cells  and  centers  are  relatively  lacking  in  organiza- 
tion, and  that  the  reaction  time  of  children  is  slow.  We 
must  understand  then,  that  much  resistance  is  encoun- 
tered by  a  nervous  impulse  in  passing  through  a  nervous 
arc  in  children,  and  that  a  large  expenditure  of  energy, 
lost  in  feeling,  is  necessary  to  overcome  the  resistance, 


THE  RELATION  OP  FEELING  TO  INTELLECT      151 

with  the  result  that  a  relatively  small  amount  of  it  gets 
through.  We  have,  then,  a  sufficient  explanation  of  the 
fact  that  little  children  are  capable  of  doing  little  intel- 
lectual vrork.  The  resistance  in  this  case  is  due  largely 
to  the  character  of  the  nervous  arc,  and  this  is  the  con- 
dition in  which  the  reciprocal  relation  between  intellect 
and  feeling  is  shown. 

We  found  reason  in  our  chapter  on  the  Problem  of 
Esthetics  to  believe  that  the  esthetic  feelings  have,  on  the 
whole,  been  advantageous  in  increasing  the  amount  of 
nervous  energy  available  for  doing  work.  But  there  are 
indications  that  not  in  all  cases  does  a  highly  developed 
artistic  and  esthetic  sense  contribute  anything  whatever 
to  the  amount  of  intellectual  work  which  a  person  is 
capable  of  doing.  In  fact,  an  examination  of  the  work 
that  is  done  by  artists  in  any  branch  of  esthetics  will  lead 
one  to  suspect  that  art  is  a  deviation  from  the  normal, 
and  it  may  be  so  to  such  an  extent  as  to  seem  almost 
pathological.  Nordau  has  maintained  that  art  is  the 
slight  beginning  of  a  deviation  from  perfect  health.  Very 
few  of  the  great  artists  have  lived  lives  that  were  in  all 
respects  commendable,  and  their  intellectual  work  has 
partaken  of  the  erratic  character  and  irresponsible  nature 
that  their  social  lives  have  manifested.  We  have  in  these 
two  series  of  facts  a  situation  that  needs  to  be  harmonized 
and  brought  under  one  law. 

The  latter  statement,  that  artists  manifest  a  deviation 
from  the  ordinary  and  a  deviation  in  the  wrong  direction, 
is  better  established  than  the  other ;  namely,  that  esthetic 
feelings  have  been  advantageous  to  the  development  of  the 
race.  But  we  can  see  that  the  two  series  of  observations 
are  not  irreconcilable  nor  necessarily  opposed  to  each 
other.  The  artist  who  leads  a  life  of  feeling,  and  expends 
his  nervous  energy  in  overcoming  resistance,  it  not  likely 
to  contribute  very  much  to  the  intellectual  life  of  the  race. 
He  may,  as  a  result  of  his  esthetic  development,  become 


152  THE   FEELINGS   OP    MAN 

able  to  generate  a  larger  amount  of  nervous  energy  than 
he  would  otherwise  do,  but  if  he  expends  all  of  this  sur- 
plus energy  and  a  portion  of  that  besides  which  would  not 
be  so  expended  if  he  were  not  an  artist,  he  will  have  his 
intellectual  output  diminished  as  the  result  of  his  esthetic 
cultivation.  The  amount  of  nervous  energy  will  be  in- 
creased, but  the  amount  used  up  and  expended  in  over- 
coming resistance  will  be  still  further  increased.  Hence 
the  net  result  of  his  intellectual  work  will  show  not  an 
increase,  but  an  actual  decrease  below  the  normal  amount 
that  might  be  expected  from  him.  This  explanation  will 
satisfactorily  account  for  the  fact  that  while  we  ought  to 
expect  great  artists  to  accomplish  more  intellectually 
than  ordinary  men,  only  a  few  of  them  do  so.  This  will 
indicate  the  limitation  that  must  be  set  also,  upon  the 
artistic  cultivation  of  the  individual,  if  the  greatest  in- 
tellectual development  is  to  be  attained. 

So  far,  all  of  our  illustrations  have  been  of  the  kind 
that  show  the  reciprocal  nature  of  intellect  and  feeling, 
but  there  are  facts  that  would  seem  to  indicate  the  con- 
tradictory relation.  Why  is  it  that  some  men,  who  are 
capable  of  intellectual  work  that  is  unquestionably  great, 
are  at  the  same  time  men  of  deep  feeling?  Abraham  Lin- 
coln is  a  good  example.  So  many  instances  of  this  kind 
may  be  cited  that  it  is  no  wonder  that  many  persons  have 
been  misled  into  the  belief  that  instead  of  there  being  an 
antithesis  between  intellect  and  feeling,  the  two  work 
with  each  other.    The  poet  says : 

"It  is  the  heart  and  not  the  brain 
That  to  the  highest  doth  attain." 

The  explanation  of  the  discrepancy  is  easy,  and  both 
may  be  brought  under  one  rule  of  the  relation  between 
feeling  and  intellect.  We  have  but  to  recall  that  the  re- 
sistance, as  we  are  using  the  word,  varies  with  two  fac- 


THE  RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  INTELLECT      153 

tors,  the  nature  of  the  nervous  arc  and  the  strength  of 
the  current.  In  all  cases  of  men  who  are  intellectually 
great,  and  still  manifest  much  feeling,  we  have  the  gen- 
eration of  a  large  amount  of  nervous  energy.  Such  men 
are  genuine  steam  engines  for  the  generation  of  nervous 
energy,  and  their  very  appearance  is  frequently  indicative 
of  that  fact.  There  is  a  wide  difference  in  persons  in  the 
amount  of  nervous  energy  they  are  capable  of  generating. 
A  person  who  generates  twice  the  amount  of  energy  that 
another  does,  is  able  to  expend  a  large  amount  of  it  in 
feeling  and  still  have  an  excess  of  energy  over  the  first 
to  employ  in  doing  intellectual  work. 

However,  if  any  one  of  the  men  who  might  be  cited  as 
examples  of  deep  feeling,  and  still  intellectually  great, 
had  employed  all  his  energy  in  intellectual  work,  letting 
none  of  it  be  destroyed  in  feeling,  the  intellectual  output 
would  greatly  have  exceeded  that  which  was  shown.  It 
will  be  understood  that  our  employment  of  the  quantita- 
tive expression,  referring  to  nervous  energy,  is  altogether 
figurative,  and  not  intended  to  be  anything  more  than  an 
illustration  to  make  the  meaning  clear. 

Another  series  of  examples  like  the  last  finds  its  expla- 
nation in  the  same  condition.  As  students  in  school  we 
are  advised  to  manifest  interest  in  our  studies,  and  what- 
ever our  work  may  be,  we  are  assured  that  we  shall  do  it 
better  if  we  are  interested.  Interest,  in  the  meaning  given 
to  it  by  the  persons  who  furnish  the  advice,  means  a  feel- 
ing of  a  pleasant  tone.  The  command,  then,  is  to  expe- 
rience more  feeling  in  our  work  if  we  wish  to  do  our  work 
better.  This  advice,  apparently  so  conformable  to  the 
facts  observed,  would  seem  to  indicate  that  feeling  and 
intellectual  work  vary  together,  and  are  not  reciprocally 
related. 

One  group  of  educational  philosophers  regards  interest 
as  the  most  fundamental  condition  of  successful  educa- 
tion.   No  school  exercise  in  which  children  are  not  in- 


154  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

terested  can  have  any  educational  value  for  them.  Hence 
it  comes  about  that  the  cultivation  of  interest,  the  expe- 
riencing of  a  pleasant  feeling,  is  the  sine  qua  non  of 
education.  The  errand  boy  is  subject  to  reproof  because 
he  fails  to  experience  interest  in  his  work. 

When  we  experience  interest  in  our  work,  we  expend 
energy  in  overcoming  resistance.  But  if  the  resistance 
arise  from  the  larger  amount  of  energy  generated,  we  may 
still  have  a  very  considerable  surplus  to  employ  in  doing 
intellectual  work.  If  the  pleasurable  feelings  were  to 
arise  from  any  other  circumstance  than  the  increase  in 
the  amount  of  energy,  the  result  would  not  be  advantage- 
ous, but  rather  the  reverse.  The  command  to  be  inter- 
ested in  our  work,  then,  is  really  a  command  to  "Go  thou, 
and  generate  more  nervous  energy." 

This  condition  of  interest  is  advantageous  only  so  long 
as  the  resulting  tone  of  feeling  is  a  pleasurable  one.  If 
it  is  a  painful  tone,  such  as  may  be  the  case  when  over- 
stimulation results  in  worry,  the  result  is  disastrous. 
But  the  larger  amount  of  nervous  energy  generated  and 
transmitted  through  the  nervous  arc,  actually  results  in 
the  more  rapid  modification  of  the  nervous  conductor 
and  the  more  rapid  growth  of  the  cells,  neurons,  dendritic 
branches,  and  association  fibers.  Hence  the  most  favor- 
able condition  for  educative  processes  is  that  in  which 
there  is  generated  a  large  amount  of  nervous  energy,  so 
large  that  its  transmission  involves  that  degree  of  resist- 
ance indicated  by  a  pleasant  feeling,  and  accompanied 
by  positive  attention,  whose  effect  is  to  transmit  the  im- 
pulse with  the  least  resistance.  By  a  process  of  positive 
attention  it  is  possible  to  send  a  large  amount  of  nervous 
energy  through  a  brain  center  with  a  force  only  great 
enough  to  overcome  the  resistance.  It  is  this  attention 
factor  that  the  "Interest"  people  usually  omit,  or  fail  to 
take  into  proper  consideration. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  the  doctrine  of  interest  is  not 


THE  RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  INTELLECT  155 

at  all  contradictory  to  the  determination  of  feeling  as  the 
concomitant  of  resistance,  but  that,  when  properly  un- 
derstood, it  furnishes  an  excellent  corroboration  of  it. 
We  can  tell  when  we  have  generated  more  energy  by  the 
increased  feeling  that  we  experience,  and  the  increase  in 
energy  may  also  be  proved  to  exist  by  the  greater  quan- 
tity of  blood  that  is  sent  to  the  brain  and  the  greater 
amount  of  tissue  oxidized. 

When  we  say  that  we  have  a  sufficient  explanation  of 
the  fact,  it  is  necessary  to  avoid  the  implication  that  we 
have  explained  and  understand  how  it  is  that  a  nervous 
impulse  in  passing  through  a  nervous  arc  is  a  constant 
accompaniment  of  an  intellectual  process,  nor  have  we 
explained  why  it  is  that  resistance  to  transmission  is  a 
constant  accompaniment  of  feeling.  But  it  is  meant 
that  we  have  associated  the  intellectual  and  the  af- 
fective processes,  which  we  do  not  understand,  with  a 
physiological  process  and  the  nervous  state  which  accom- 
panies it.  The  remark  of  H.  Newell  Martin  is  very  much 
to  the  point  here :  '^We  do  not  know  at  all  how  an  electric 
current  sent  around  a  bar  of  soft  iron  makes  it  magnetic. 
We  only  know  that  the  one  change  is  accompanied  by 
the  other.  But  we  say  that  we  have  explained  the  magnet- 
ism of  the  piece  of  iron  if  we  have  found  an  electric  cur- 
rent circulating  around  it.  Similarly  we  do  not  know 
how  a  nervous  change  causes  a  mental  state,  but  we  have 
not  explained  the  mental  state  until  we  have  found  the 
nervous  state  associated  with  it,  and  how  the  nervous 
state  was  produced."    {Human  Body,  p.  462.) 

Synopsis. 
1 — With  a  given  amount  of  nervous  energy^  the  greater 
the  feeling,  the  less  intellectual  work  will  he  accom- 
plished; and  with  a  given  amount  of  nervous  energy,  the 
less  the  feeling,  the  more  intellectual  work  will  he  accom- 
plished. 


156  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

2 — With  a  given  nervous  arc,  the  greater  the  feeling 
experienced,  the  more  intellectual  work  will  he  done; 
and  with  a  given  nervous  arc,  the  less  the  feeling,  the  less 
intellectual  work  will  he  accomplished. 

3 — Attention  presents  a  third  condition  that  may 
modify  either  feeling  or  intellectual  work, 

4 — Interest  in  our  work  is  advantageous,  if  hy  interest 
we  mean  a  pleasant  feeling,  and  if  it  is  the  concomitant 
of  increased  resistance  arising  from  the  liheration  of  a 
greater  amount  of  nervous  energy. 

5 — Hahit  hy  decreasing  resistance  and  its  concomitant 
feeling  enahles  a  greater  amount  of  intellectual  work  to 
he  done  with  the  expenditure  of  a  given  amount  of  ner- 
vous energy. 

6 — Children  experience  much  feeling  as  a  consequence 
of  lih crating  much  nervous  energy  which  is  directed 
through  poorly  organized  hrain  centers.  There  is  much 
resistance  from  a  summation  of  hoth  conditions. 


Chapter   X. 
THE  RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  CONSCIOUSNESS. 

The  entire  matter  of  consciousness  is  in  a  more  confused 
and  disordered  state  than  that  of  almost  any  other  division 
of  psychology.  The  confusion  arises  largely  from  the  use 
of  the  word  consciousness  in  two  distinct  senses,  with  a 
strong  tendency  to  adopt  the  one  that  is  least  to  be  com- 
mended. The  first  use  of  the  word  means  a  knowledge  of 
our  own  mental  states  and  processes  that  are  in  progress 
at  any  one  time;  or  we  may  mean  by  it  the  process  by 
which  our  mental  states  become  known ;  or  the  property  of 
a  mental  process  by  which  it  becomes  known  to  us.  Any 
of  these  descriptions  is  indicated  by  the  word  awareness 
to  discriminate  it  from  another  use  of  the  term. 

This  is  the  common  meaning  for  the  word.  When  we 
speak  of  losing  consciousness,  we  mean  that  we  cease  to 
be  aware  of  the  mental  processes  that  are  going  on.  We 
are  unconscious  when  we  are  asleep,  and  when  we  awaken 
we  become  conscious.  Chloroform  brings  on  a  condition 
of  unconsciousness,  and  equally  effective  in  producing  the 
same  result  is  a  blow  on  the  head.  Unconsciousness  may 
be  produced  in  many  ways,  and  the  difference  between  con- 
sciousness and  unconsciousness  is  always  the  same. 

But  another  meaning  for  the  word  consciousness  has 
come  into  very  general  use  among  psychologists,  and  by 
it  is  meant  any  kind  of  a  mental  process  that  may  be  ex- 
perienced. It  is  used  as  a  synonym  for  mind,  and  psy- 
chology is  often  defined  as  the  science  of  consciousness. 
Any  mental  process  is  a  state  of  consciousness,  and  when 
consciousness  is  wanting  there  can  be  no  mental  process 
of  any  kind. 

157 


158  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

A  critical  examination  will  show  that  the  meaning  of 
awareness  is  the  primary  use  of  the  word  and  the  second 
meaning  is  derived  from  the  first  by  a  figure  of  speech. 
When  we  say  that  every  mental  process  is  a  state  of  con- 
sciousness, we  are  compelled  to  employ  the  word  with  the 
first  meaning.  The  argument  used  to  justify  this  use  of 
the  word  is  that  there  can  be  no  mental  process  without 
awareness,  or  of  which  we  are  unconscious,  or  without 
consciousness.  From  this  arbitrary  assumption  psychology 
is  defined  as  the  science  of  consciousness. 

It  would  be  equally  possible  to  show  that  every  mental 
process  is  accompanied  by  feeling  and,  therefore,  every 
mental  process  is  a  state  of  feeling,  and  psychology  may  be 
defined  as  the  science  of  feeling.  Or  it  might  be  shown 
that  every  mental  process  is  accompanied  by  muscular 
movement,  therefore,  every  mental  process  is  a  muscular 
movement  ("All  consciousness  is  motor")  and  psychology 
may  be  defined  as  a  state  of  movement  or  behavior.  Or  it 
might  be  shown  that  every  mental  process  is  accompanied 
by  attention,  therefore,  every  mental  process  is  a  state  of 
attention,  and  psychology  may  be  defined  as  the  science  of 
attention ;  or,  that  every  mental  process  involves  an  act  of 
will,  therefore,  every  mental  process  is  a  state  of  will,  and 
psychology  might  be  defined  as  the  science  of  will.  Any 
one  of  these  statements  has  the  same  kind  of  justification 
or  lack  of  justification,  as  has  the  definition  of  a  mental 
process  as  a  state  of  consciousness. 

The  second  use  of  the  word  grows  out  of  the  arbitrary 
doctrine  that  no  unconscious  process  can  be  mental,  and 
such  unconscious  state  does  not  constitute  a  proper  sub- 
ject for  discussion  in  psychology.  Those  who  employ  the 
second  meaning  of  the  word  assert  that  there  is  no  differ- 
ence between  a  sensation  and  the  consciousness  of  a  sensa- 
tion, and  that  an  unconscious  mental  process  is  a  contra- 
diction in  terms.  What  should  be  stated  by  those  psychol- 
ogists who  assert  that  every  mental  process  is  a  state  of 


RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  CONSCIOUSNESS  159 

consciousness  is  that  every  mental  process  is  accompanied 
by  consciousness,  or  that  every  mental  process  is  a  con- 
scious state.  Instead,  for  example  of  defining  memory  as 
a  state  of  consciousness,  having  specified  characteristics, 
these  writers  should  say  that  memory  is  a  mental  process 
having  the  specified  characteristics  and  accompanied  by 
consciousness.  This  is  what  is  really  intended,  and  the 
usual  form  of  defining  a  mental  process  as  a  state  of  con- 
sciousness substitutes  the  differentia  for  the  genus. 

This  employment  of  the  word  consciousness  with  the 
second  meaning  is  attributed  to  Descartes,  who  argued 
vigorously  for  the  identity  between  a  sensation  and  the 
consciousness  of  a  sensation.  His  argument  was  designed 
to  furnish  a  means  of  discriminating  the  mental  processes 
of  man  from  that  of  other  animals,  and  he  used  it  as  a 
postulate  in  his  argument  that  animals  are  automata. 

Locke  defined  consciousness  as  the  perception  of  that 
which  passes  in  our  own  minds,  (Bk.  I,  Ch.  1)  but  he  also 
insists  that  there  can  be  no  mental  process  without  con- 
sciousness. He  uses  such  expressions  as  " — hard  to  con- 
ceive that  anything  should  think  and  not  be  conscious  of 
it." — "For  to  be  happy  or  miserable  without  being  con- 
scious of  it  seems  to  me  utterly  inconsistent  and  impos- 
sible."   (Bk.  II,  Ch.  1,  Sec.  11.) 

Hamilton  is  generally  credited  with  using  the  word  in 
the  first  sense,  for  he  defines  consciousness  as  "The  recog- 
nition by  the  thinking  subject  of  his  own  acts  and  affec- 
tions." But  he  also  sees  no  inconsistency  in  saying  that 
"A  feeling  of  which  we  are  not  conscious  is  no  feeling  at 
all"  (Metaphysics,  p.  125).  But  a  tabulation  of  all  the 
expressions  involving  the  employment  of  the  word  con- 
sciousness shows  that  Hamilton  habitually  uses  the  word 
in  two  senses. 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  no  one  has  yet  been  able 
to  use  the  word  in  the  Cartesian  sense  without  involving 
himself  in  contradiction,  and  that  in  defining  a  mental 


160  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

process  as  a  state  of  consciousness  one  necessarily  employs 
a  petitio  principii,  the  influence  of  Wundt  and  Ziehen  has 
be^n  suflftcient  in  this  country  to  make  this  use  of  the  word 
the  common  one,  even  among  physiological  psychologists. 
Ziehen  is  particularly  emphatic.  He  says ;  ^^Let  us  repeat 
it — psychical  and  conscious,  are  for  us,  at  least  at  the  be- 
ginning of  our  investigations,  identical"  {Physiological 
Psychology,  p.  5).  And  again:  "From  the  outstart,  the 
conception  unconscious  psychical  process  is  an  empty 
conception"  (p.  5).  "Consciousness  is  merely  an  abstrac- 
tion. The  association  of  ideas  with  its  accompanying 
sensations  and  images  is  consciousness"  (p.  29).  Even 
Hojffiding  says :  "The  strictly  psychological  standpoint  is 
confined  to  the  phenomena  of  conscious  life.  We  know 
directly  just  so  much  of  the  mental  life  as  we  know  of  the 
phenomena  of  consciousness"  (Psychology,  p.  23).  But  he 
does  not  hesitate  to  refer  to  the  sensations  and  perceptions 
that  are  experienced  unconsciously,  and  the  elements  of 
mental  life  that  grow  out  of  the  unconscious. 

If  we  employ  the  word  in  this  sense,  we  must  assert  that 
the  producing  of  Kubla  Khan  was  not  a  mental  process; 
that  the  phenomena  of  dreams  do  not  belong  to  the  psychic 
life;  that  the  thousand  and  one  adjustments,  sensations, 
judgments,  and  decisions  that  constitute  the  larger  part 
of  our  daily  life  cannot  be  considered  in  psychology,  and 
that  the  more  skillful  we  become  in  doing  any  kind  of  intel- 
lectual work,  the  farther  it  is  removed  from  a  psychic 
process.    To  these  propositions  it  is  difficult  to  assent. 

The  inadvisability  of  making  consciousness  the  general 
form  of  psychic  life  that  is  dififerentiated  into  several  kinds 
of  processes  has  been  recognized  by  many  persons.  Spen- 
cer says :  "The  error  has  been  in  confounding  two  quite 
different  things,  having  a  sensation  and  being  conscious  of 
having  a  sensation"  (Psychology,  Vol.  II,  p.  372).  Karl 
Pearson  says :  "1  can  receive  a  sense  impression  without 
recognizing  it,  for  a  sense  impression  does  not  involve 


RELATION   OF   FEELING  TO  CONSCIOUSNESS  161 

consciousness'^  {Grammar  of  Science,  p.  43) .  Binet  says : 
"Consciousness  accompanies  the  physiological  processes 
of  reasoning,  sensation,  recollection,  etc.  It  does  not 
constitute  them.  It  is  an  epiphenomenon  and  nothing 
more-'  (Psychology  of  Reasoning,  p.  91).  Haeckel  states 
his  opinion  that:  "The  greatest  and  most  fundamental 
error  committed  by  modern  physiology  is  the  baseless 
dogma  that  all  sensation  must  be  accompanied  by  con- 
sciousness'' ( Wonders  of  Life,  p.  289) .  And  again,  "Those 
familiar  facts  [speaking,  walking,  eating]  prove  of  them- 
selves that  consciousness  is  a  complicated  function  of  the 
brain,  by  no  means  inseparably  connected  with  sensation 
and  will"  (p.  291).  So  also  Saleeby  says:  "We  have 
lately  learned  that  consciousness  and  mind  are  by  no 
means  synonymous.  Consciousness  is  to  be  regarded  in- 
deed, as  the  effloresence  of  mind"  {Evolution,  The  Master 
Key,  p.  172).  As  holding  the  same  view  of  consciousness 
we  may  mention  Romanes,  Fritz  Miiller,  Schultze, 
Paulsen. 

The  most  vigorous  and  aggressive  movement  in  psy- 
chology today  is  that  which  is  represented  by  Freud  and 
his  disciples,  and  the  entire  Freudian  system  is  based 
upon  a  principle  which  asserts  that  consciousness  is  not 
a  necessary  element  in  a  mental  process.  In  his  Interpre- 
tation of  Dreams,  Freud  says  that  "so  long  as  psychology 
settled  this  question  with  the  explanation  that  the  psychic 
is  the  conscious,  and  that  unconscious  psychic  occurrences 
are  an  obvious  contradiction,  a  psychological  estimate  of 
the  observations  gained  by  a  physician  from  abnormal 
states  was  precluded"  (p.  485,  Trans,  by  Brill).  And 
again  rather  sarcastically  he  asserts  that  "The  physician 
can  but  reject  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders  the  assertion 
that  'consciousness  is  an  indispensable  quality  of  the 
psychic'  He  may  assume,  if  his  respect  for  the  utterings 
of  the  philosophers  still  be  strong  enough,  that  he  and 
they  do  not  treat  the  same  subject,  and  do  not  pursue  the 


162  THE   FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

same  science."  "For  a  single  intelligent  observation  of 
the  psychic  life  of  a  neurotic,  a  single  analysis  of  a  dream, 
must  force  upon  him  the  unalterable  conviction  that  the 
most  complicated  and  correct  mental  operations,  to  which 
no  one  will  refuse  the  name  psychic  occurrences,  may  take 
place  without  exciting  the  consciousness  of  the  person" 
(p.  485.) 

Even  more  emphatic  is  the  statement  that  "we  must 
also  steer  clear  of  the  distinctions  superconscious  and  sub- 
conscious, which  have  found  so  much  favor  in  the  more 
recent  literature  on  the  psychoneuroses,  for  just  such  a 
distinction  seems  to  emphasize  the  equivalence  of  the 
psychic  and  the  conscious"  (p.  488.) 

It  appears  that  the  idea  that  mental  action  and  con- 
sciousness are  inseparable  grew  out  of  the  desire  of  Des- 
carte  to  prove  that  man  constituted  a  different  order  of 
beings  from  animals.  As  that  notion  was  consistent  with 
the  ultra  religious  spirit  of  earlier  psychologists,  holding 
their  peculiar  views  of  the  nature  of  mind,  it  was  easy  of 
adoption  by  them.  Recent  physiological  psychologists 
have  accepted  it  without  sufficient  examination,  perhaps 
in  consequence  of  the  difficulty  of  framing  any  hypothesis 
of  a  physiological  nature  by  which  the  phenomena  of  con- 
sciousness could  be  presented  in  understandable  terms. 

It  is  difficult  to  propose  such  an  hypothesis.  Feeling 
and  the  consciousness  of  a  feeling  are  declared  by  Hamil- 
ton, Locke,  Ziehen,  and  many  other  psychologists  to  be 
inseparable.  But  though  the  relation  is  such  that  the  two 
vary  together,  it  is  possible  to  distinguish  them  by  a 
process  of  abstraction,  and  to  picture  them  in  understand- 
able terms.  While  it  is  true  that  feeling  and  conscious- 
ness are  inseparable  in  practice,  and  vary  with  each  other, 
it  is  equally  true  that  feeling  and  intellect  are  likewise 
inseparable.  So  are  feeling  and  attention,  feeling  and  will, 
and,  in  fact,  none  of  the  fundamental  processes  that  we 
discriminate  can  appear  alone.  Yet,  the  one  is  not  the 
other ;  nor  is  the  other,  the  one. 


RELATION  OP  FEELING  TO  CONSCIOUSNESS      163 

Let  US  note  in  the  first  place,  that  consciousness  is  not 
necessary  to  a  mental  act.  Consciousness  is  most  intense 
when  the  mental  processes  are  most  imperfect  and  hesi- 
tant. When  we  are  learning  to  skate,  or  play  the  piano, 
or  whet  a  razor,  we  are  intensely  conscious  of  all  the  steps 
that  must  be  taken  in  learning.  But  as  we  become 
familiar  with  the  process,  and  acquire  skill  in  doing  it, 
the  intensity  of  consciousness  diminishes  until  when  we 
have  attained  the  highest  degree  of  skill,  consciousness 
seems  almost  completely  to  have  disappeared.  This  is  one 
of  the  fundamental  data  that  we  shall  have  to  consider  in 
expressing  the  relation  between  feeling  and  consciousness, 
and  demonstrating  a  physiological  hypothesis  for  it. 

Another  fact  that  must  be  considered  is  that  we  can 
never  be  merely  conscious.  We  must  be  conscious  of  some- 
thing. Consciousness  can  never  exist  alone.  Conscious- 
ness is  the  accompaniment  of  an  intellectual  process,  such 
as  a  perception,  or  the  discovery  of  a  relation,  or  a  feeling 
which  it  must  accompany.  The  consciousness  may  be  in- 
tense or  feeble,  it  may  vary  in  its  intensity  without  any 
corresponding  variation  in  the  intensity  of  the  process 
which  it  accompanies.  We  shall  expect,  then,  to  find  the 
physiological  concomitant  of  consciousness  some  element 
of  the  nervous  current,  or  of  the  transmission  of  a  nervous 
impulse  through  a  nervous  arc  whose  concomitant  is  an 
intellectual  act. 

A  third  fact  that  must  accord  with  any  theory  that  we 
may  present,  is  that  in  nearly  every  experience  of  which 
we  are  conscious,  there  is  a  shadowy  background  of  other 
facts,  events,  processes,  less  vivid  than  the  one  that  we 
may  consider  in  the  focus,  as  representing  the  mental 
process  for  which  consciousness  is  the  accompaniment. 
This  shadowy  background  is  not  necessarily  present,  and 
may  be  very  much  narrowed  or  altogether  omitted,  but  its 
frequent  presence  materially  assists  us  in  suggesting  a 
probable  hypothesis  for  consciousness.    These  three  facts 


164  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

will  enable  us  to  frame  such  an  hypothesis  when  we  con- 
sider them  all  together. 

I  propose  to  use  the  word  psychon  to  express  the  sum 
of  all  the  psychological  elements  that  taken  together  con- 
stitute the  concomitant  of  the  nervous  current.  Thus  the 
intellectual  process  is  one  of  the  elements  of  the  psychon ; 
feeling  is  another ;  and  consciousness  is  a  third.  A  descrip- 
tion of  its  physiological  concomitant  will  be  the  most  suc- 
cessful means  of  discriminating  feeling  from  conscious- 
ness, and  exhibiting  their  relations  to  each  other.  The 
determination  of  the  physiological  concomitant  of  con- 
sciousness is  already  made  for  us,  in  part  at  least,  by  our 
hypothesis  of  feeling. 

We  have  described  feeling  as  the  concomitant  of  the 
resistance  that  a  nervous  impulse  encounters  in  passing 
through  a  nervous  arc.  But  we  have  recognized  the  fact 
that  when  a  nervous  impulse  encounters  resistance,  it  has 
a  tendency  to  spread  out  into  the  surrounding  cells.  We 
have  seen  that  this  spreading  out  into  the  surrounding 
cells  of  the  motor  region  and  the  glandular  centers  is  the 
nervous  correlate  of  the  expression  of  feeling. 

But  not  all  the  impulse  that  radiates  out  of  the  brain 
center  passes  into  the  motor  and  glandular  centers.  Some 
of  it  passes  into  the  fringing  cells  around  the  brain  center 
that  are  neither  motor  nor  glandular.  When  this  is  the 
case,  that  portion  that  so  radiates  does  not  produce  motion 
nor  glandular  activity.  If  the  radiating  portion  of  the 
nervous  impulse  were  to  traverse  these  fringing  cells  as  if 
they  were  other  brain  centers,  each  brain  center  so  trav- 
ersed by  the  radiating  impulse  would  give  rise  to  an  intel- 
lectual process,  fainter  than  the  original,  as  the  radiating 
impulse  is  weaker  than  the  main  impulse.  It  is  in  some 
such  supposition  as  this  that  we  can  picture  the  dim,  faint, 
fringe  of  perceptions  and  other  mental  processes  that  ac- 
company the  conscious  act.  This  would  be  the  physiolog- 
ical interpretation  of  the  things  that  are  in  the  fringe  of 
consciousness. 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO   CONSCIOUSNESS  165 

But  this  background  of  faint  perceptions  and  indefinite 
mental  processes  is  not  necessary  to  a  conscious  act.  We 
may  be  conscious  of  the  mental  process  in  the  focus,  with- 
out any  of  the  fringing  percepts.  The  nervous  impulse 
may,  and  sometimes  does,  radiate  out  into  the  fringing 
cells  without  passing  through  them  as  a  brain  center,  and 
completing  their  circuit.  We  may  say  that  it  radiates  into 
the  fringing  cells  without  radiating  through  them.  This 
will  stand  to  us  for  the  concomitant  of  consciousness.  The 
radiation  of  the  nervous  impulse  out  of  the  brain  center 
into  the  fringing  cells  that  are  neither  motor  nor  glandu- 
lar, then,  we  may  consider  as  an  hypothesis  for  the  nervous 
concomitant  of  consciousness.  This  will  give  us  an  inter- 
pretation of  the  process  enabling  us  easily  to  understand 
and  to  express  the  relation  that  it  holds  to  feeling. 

It  is  evident  that  the  nervous  impulse  will  not  radiate 
out  into  the  fringing  cells  unless  some  resistance  is  encoun- 
tered in  the  brain  center.  The  resistance  itself  is  the  con- 
comitant of  feeling,  but  the  radiation  which  follows  upon 
the  resistance  is  the  concomitant  of  consciousness. 

It  follows,  then,  that  if  our  interpretation  of  the  physio- 
logical concomitant  is  correct,  consciousness  and  feeling 
will  vary  together.  Other  things  being  the  same,  the 
greater  the  feeling,  the  more  intense  will  be  the  conscious- 
ness. The  less  the  feeling,  the  less  intensity  of  conscious- 
ness. This  result  arises,  not  in  consequence  of  any  causal 
connection  with  each  other,  but  because  the  two — con- 
sciousness and  feeling — are  both  similarly  related  to  the 
same  circumstance,  the  resistance  encountered.  What- 
ever increases  the  resistance  will  at  the  same  time  increase 
both  feeling  and  the  intensity  of  consciousness.  Whatever 
decreases  the  resistance,  will  by  that  very  fact  decrease 
both  feeling  and  the  intensity  of  consciousness.  Feeling 
is  not  the  cause  of  consciousness,  nor  is  consciousness 
the  cause  of  feeling,  but  both  of  them  are  related  in  the 
same  way  to  the  antecedent  condition  of  resistance. 


166  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

This  is  a  more  satisfactory  interpretation  of  the  con- 
comitant of  radiation  than  is  that  of  Bain  and  Kichet,  who 
interpret  radiation  as  the  concomitant  of  feeling.  Bain 
says  {Mind  and  Body,  p.  52) :  "When  an  impression  is 
accompanied  by  feeling,  the  aroused  currents  diffuse  them- 
selves [radiate]  freely  over  the  brain,  leading  to  a  general 
agitation  of  the  moving  organs,  as  well  as  affecting  the 
viscera."  So  Richet,  (quoted  by  Hoffding,  Psychology,  p. 
223)  says:  "Pain  without  memory  and  without  radiation 
would  be  no  pain  at  all."  This  seems  to  justify  our  asser- 
tion that  Bain,  Richet,  and  other  psychologists  recognize 
the  fact  of  radiation  out  of  the  brain  center,  and  would 
identify  it  with  feeling.  But  it  will  be  seen  that  to  identify 
it  with  consciousness  explains  phenomena  that  the  other 
identification  will  not  do. 

One  other  remark  ought  to  be  made  concerning  the  asso- 
ciation of  consciousness  with  radiation.  We  have  ex- 
plained the  expression  of  feeling  by  the  radiation  of  the 
nervous  impulse  out  of  the  primary  brain  center  into  the 
motor  and  glandular  centers,  as  a  consequence  of  the  re- 
sistance encountered.  In  the  radiation  out  into  the  fring- 
ing cells  that  are  neither  motor  nor  glandular,  we  believe 
that  we  have  the  concomitant  of  consciousness.  It  ap- 
pears, then,  that  consciousness  and  the  expression  of  feel- 
ing arise  from  the  same  cause,  and  are  consequences  of  the 
same  condition.  The  difference  between  the  two  is  merely 
the  radiation  of  the  impulse  into  different  kinds  of  ceUs 
and  centers.  Therefore,  consciousuetss  and  expression  of 
feeling  may  in  a  certain  sense  be  considered  homologues 
of  each  other,  and  both  of  them  vary  with  each  other  and 
with  feeling.  If  we  choose  to  stretch  a  point,  we  may 
assert  that  consciousness  is  as  truly  an  expression  of  feel- 
ing as  is  muscular  movement  itself.  This  is  one  way  in 
which,  if  we  choose  to  do  so,  we  can  read  a  meaning  into 
the  phrase,  a  favorite  one  with  some  writers,  that  all  con- 
sciousness is  motor. 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO   CONSCIOUSNESS  167 

This  interpretation  of  consciousness  will  enable  us  to 
understand  two  other  phenomena  which  have  before 
seemed  incapable  of  explanation.  The  first  is  that  con- 
sciousness is  always  involved  in  the  process  of  learning  a 
new  thing,  and  the  second  is  that  consciousness  is  com- 
monly believed  to  be  the  process  by  which  the  human  race 
adapts  itself  to  new  situations. 

The  process  of  learning  demands  that  the  nervous  im- 
pulse should  find  a  passage  through  new  and  unaccus- 
tomed channels.  If  the  path  of  a  nervous  impulse  were 
immutably  fixed,  and  there  was  no  possibility  of  its  flow- 
ing over  into  untraversed  combinations  of  cells,  no  new 
process  could  ever  occur  and  learning  a  new  thing  would 
be  impossible.  The  condition  which  renders  radiation  and 
its  concomitant  consciousness  possible  is  sometimes 
described  as  plasticity.  It  is  upon  this  plastic  quality 
that  the  learning  process  depends. 

The  fact  that  a  human  being  consciously  adapts  himself 
to  new  situations  has  been  so  difficult  of  explanation  that 
it  is  not  strange  that  consciousness  has  been  described  as 
a  distinct  entity,  capable  of  making  adjustments,  and 
unexplainable  on  any  physiological  or  mechanistic 
hypothesis. 

Adjustment  to  new  conditions  implies  rapid  changes  in 
the  nervous  arcs  through  which  the  impulses  flow.  When 
impulses  radiate,  and  consciousness  is  concomitantly  ex- 
perienced, there  is  an  opportunity  for  choice  between  large 
numbers  of  possible  actions,  and  the  selection  of  that 
which  is  most  nearly  accordant  with  the  situation.  If  it 
were  not  for  this  radiation,  which  we  have  associated  with 
consciousness,  there  would  not  be  an  opportunity  for 
selecting  the  most  appropriate  course  of  action.  Hence 
we  see  that  radiation,  consciousness,  functional  selection, 
plasticity,  learning  of  new  things  and  adaptation  to  new 
situations  are  correlative  to  each  other,  and  depend  upon 
the  same  neuronic  condition.    While  it  is  commonly  be- 


168  THE  FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

lieved  that  consciousness  makes  adjustments,  in  reality 
consciousness  follows  as  only  one  of  the  results  of  the 
plastic  condition  which  enables  radiation  to  occur. 

Many  elaborate  experiments  have  been  made  to  show 
that  every  mental  process  is  accompanied  by  some  muscu- 
lar movement.  It  has  been  conclusively  demonstrated  that 
many  mental  processes  are  so  accompanied,  and  the  gen- 
eral conclusion  that  all  are  similarly  accompanied  is 
reached  deductively. 

But  another  conclusion  is  deduced  from  the  last,  and 
that  is  that  the  muscular  movement  is  a  necessary  condi- 
tion of  the  mental  process,  or  state  of  consciousness,  in- 
stead of  being  an  inevitable  accompaniment.  This  conclu- 
sion is  not  justified  by  the  premises,  for  it  can  be  shown 
that  another  explanation  is  possible. 

The  only  mental  processes  in  which  the  demonstration 
of  the  muscular  accompaniment  has  been  attempted  are 
those  that  are  the  accompaniments  of  rather  strong  ner- 
vous impulses.  But  such  impulses,  strong  enough  to  be 
accompanied  by  consciousness  and  feeling,  are  very  likely 
to  overflow  into  the  motor  centers  and  give  rise  to  an 
accompanying  movement.  So  we  have  movement,  feeling, 
and  consciousness  attending  the  intellectual  process,  but 
neither  of  them  is  a  necessary  condition.  We  have  in  this 
fact  the  explanation  of  the  phenomena  that  is  expressed  by 
the  phrase :  "All  consciousness  is  motor,"  as  well  as  an 
explanation  of  the  phenomena  from  which  is  derived  the 
statement  that  every  mental  process  is  a  state  of  conscious- 
ness. 

Consciousness  and  feeling  vary  together,  and  it  is  a 
recognition  of  this  fact  that  has  led  many  psychologists  to 
identify  the  two,  and  to  assert  that  feeling  and  conscious- 
ness are  identical.  It  is  perhaps  a  consideration  of  this 
fact — for  it  is  a  fact — that  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  propo- 
sition that  feeling  and  the  consciousness  of  the  feeling  are 
inseparable,  and  then  follows  the  assertion  that  they  are 


RELATION   OF   FEELING  TO  CONSCIOUSNESS  169 

identical.  It  seems  that  in  our  physiological  hypothesis 
we  have  a  means  of  discriminating  the  two,  and  explain- 
ing the  source  of  the  errors  into  which  psychologists  have 
been  led. 

We  have  already  observed  more  than  once,  that  feeling 
tends  to  disappear  from  an  habitual  act.  Consciousness 
also  tends  to  disappear  from  an  habitual  act.  Habit  de- 
creases directly  the  resistance  that  a  nervous  impulse 
encounters  in  a  nervous  arc,  and  by  that  decrease  tends  to 
diminish  at  the  same  time,  consciousness  and  feeling.  The 
things  that  we  do  as  the  result  of  habit,  or  a  great  deal  of 
practice,  come  to  be  done  so  skillfully  that  we  say  we  do 
not  need  to  think  about  them,  and  we  do  them  uncon- 
sciously. In  fact,  when  a  thing  is  done  with  the  highest 
degree  of  skill,  we  find  that  an  effort  of  attention  which 
renders  them  conscious,  diminishes  the  skill  and  accuracy 
with  which  they  are  performed.  The  writer  has  often  at- 
tempted to  discover  if  he  could  become  conscious  of  the 
pressure  and  movement  of  the  thumb  that  turns  a  razor 
over  when  it  is  stropped,  but  not  a  single  indication  of  any 
feeling  or  consciousness  of  the  movement  of  the  muscles 
is  observable.  Practice  every  day  for  years  in  stropping 
the  razor  has  resulted  in  the  complete  disappearance  of 
consciousness  from  the  muscular  contraction  involved  in 
the  process.  Nevertheless,  this  is  a  truly  voluntary  act 
which,  as  the  result  of  habit  has  lost  all  resistance  in  the 
brain  center,  has  dropped  out  consciousness,  and  all  feel- 
ing has  disappeared.  At  first,  in  the  process  of  learning, 
the  consciousness  was  intense  and  the  feeling  was  painful. 

This  phenomenon  of  the  loss  of  consciousness  from  a 
muscular  movement  as  the  result  of  practice  is  frequently 
explained  by  saying  that  the  act  ceases  to  be  a  voluntary 
act,  becomes  a  secondary  reflex,  the  nervous  concomitant 
is  relegated  to  the  lower  nerve  centers ;  and  that  the  ner- 
vous impulse  which  accompanies  such  an  act  does  not 
pass  through  any  cerebral  center.     There  is  no  direct 


170  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

evidence  that  the  nervous  impulse  accompanying  such  an 
action  does  not  pass  through  the  same  cerebral  center  that 
it  did  in  the  process  of  learning,  and  the  hypothesis  does 
not  explain  the  facts  very  well. 

Not  only  is  consciousness  not  essential  to  a  mental 
process,  but  it  is  really  detrimental  to  an  action.  The 
highest  degree  of  skill  has  not  yet  been  attained  vrhen  we 
have  to  think  how  the  action  should  be  performed.  Con- 
sciousness bears  about  the  same  relation  to  the  other 
elements  of  the  psychon  that  the  noise  which  a  wagon 
makes  in  moving  bears  to  the  effective  movement  of  the 
wagon.  The  old  conundrum :  ^ What  is  it  that  is  no  part 
of  a  wagon  and  yet  that  the  wagon  cannot  go  without''  is 
directly  illustrative  of  the  point  here.  The  wagon  that 
makes  the  greatest  noise  is  not  the  one  that  is  the  most 
effective  wagon  for  the  purposes  for  which  a  wagon  is 
employed,  nor  is  it  in  the  most  satisfactory  condition  for 
use.  The  wagon  that  makes  the  least  noise,  other  things 
being  the  same,  is  in  better  condition  for  work.  There  is 
less  energy  lost  in  overcoming  the  resistance.  It  is  true 
that  we  may  tell  something  about  the  rate  of  speed  of  the 
wagon  by  listening  to  the  noise  that  it  makes  in  moving. 
We  may  even  order  the  driver  to  make  his  wagon  rattle 
more  than  it  does,  compliance  with  which  direction  may 
necessitate  a  more  rapid  movement  of  the  wagon,  but  the 
noise  is  not  the  cause  of  the  more  rapid  movement,  nor  is 
it  anything  to  be  proud  of  if  one  is  the  owner.  Our  actions, 
mental  and  muscular,  performed  without  consciousness 
and  without  feeling  are  better  done,  with  the  same  amount 
of  nervous  energy,  than  if  feeling  and  consciousness  accom- 
panied them.  Less  resistance  is  to  be  overcome,  and  more 
energy  is  available  for  doing  the  work.  Hence  it  is  that 
without  consciousness  and  without  feeling,  the  same 
amount  of  nervous  energy  will  do  more  work. 

Consciousness  varies  in  intensity  as  truly  as  does  feel- 
ing.   Sometimes  we  are  intensely  conscious,  and  again  we 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO   CONSCIOUSNESS  171 

are  relatively  unconscious.  There  are  all  variations  of  the 
intensity  of  consciousness  to  be  observed.  Sometimes  we 
are  half  asleep  and  again  we  are  half  awake,  and  the  dif- 
ference between  the  two  states  reduces  itself  to  zero.  Con- 
sciousness and  unconsciousness  are  relative  terms.  We 
call  sleep  a  condition  of  unconsciousness,  but  experiment 
shows  that  there  are  wide  variations  in  the  depth  or  in- 
tensity of  sleep.  The  line  between  sleeping  and  waking  is 
not  a  sharp  and  definite  one,  and  yet,  typical  conditions  of 
the  two  states  are  easily  discriminated. 

Sleep  is  a  condition  in  which  consciousness  is  relatively 
feeble  and  of  low  intensity.  The  unconsciousness  of  sleep 
results  from  the  lack  of  resistance  arising  from  the  libera- 
tion of  a  smaller  quantity  of  energy.  Always  in  sleep  less 
energy  is  generated.  The  brain  is  usually  more  or  less 
anemic,  a  smaller  quantity  of  blood  is  sent  to  the  brain, 
the  heart  beats  slower,  less  blood  is  sent  out  at  each  pulsa- 
tion, the  skin  receives  more  blood,  secretion  from  the  skin 
is  increased.  Also,  less  oxygen  is  carried  to  the  brain,  the 
breathing  is  slower,  the  respirations  are  less  voluminous. 
Impure  air  makes  us  sleepy.  So  does  a  hot  bath,  deter- 
mining the  blood  to  the  skin  and  away  from  the  brain. 
Food  taken  into  the  stomach  induces  sleep  by  determining 
the  blood  to  the  stomach.  We  avoid  the  stimulation  of  the 
sense  organs,  shut  our  eyes,  sleep  in  the  dark,  get  away 
from  the  noise,  desire  to  be  neither  too  hot  nor  too  cold, 
and  obviate  the  irregularities  in  our  couch.  By  the  con- 
currence of  a  dozen  circumstances  we  can  be  assured  that 
in  sleep  less  nervous  energy  is  generated. 

As  a  result  of  the  diminished  amount  of  nervous  energy, 
both  feeling  and  consciousness  are  lessened.  We  forget 
our  troubles  in  sleep,  even  physical  pain  does  not  annoy 
us  if  we  can  go  to  sleep  and  consciousness  is  so  much 
diminished  that  we  apply  the  term  unconscious  to  our 
condition.  We  cannot  go  to  sleep  when  we  are  experien- 
cing an  emotion  of  great  intensity.    And,  although  from  a 


172  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

dream  we  sometimes  wake  in  terror,  we  do  awake,  when 
we  experience  as  much  feeling  as  is  indicated,  and  the 
feeling  is  not  nearly  so  strong  as  it  appears  to  be.  That 
this  is  true  can  be  shown  by  the  readiness  with  which  it  is 
forgotten,  and  the  fact  that  our  terror  is  not  nearly  so 
great  as  it  would  have  been  in  the  circumstances  pictured 
in  our  dream,  if  we  had  been  awake. 

We  sometimes  have  what  we  call  a  vivid  dream.  In 
general,  the  dreams  that  we  experience  which  are  best 
remembered  and  the  most  vivid  are  those  which  occur  when 
we  are  nearest  to  the  waking  point,  when  the  largest 
amount  of  energy  consistent  with  our  sleeping  condition  is 
generated.  Then  we  remember  them  best  because  they 
have  happened  most  recently  just  before  waking  up,  and 
hence  are  most  easily  recalled.  But  if  a  dream  is  not  re- 
called, reinstated,  and  rehearsed,  scarcely  any  dream  is 
so  vivid  as  to  be  remembered  twenty-four  hours.  The 
vividness  of  a  dream  is  purely  relative,  or  merely  an 
illusion. 

That  this  is  true  can  be  observed  by  recalling  the  bright- 
ness of  a  landscape  that  is  seen.  The  phenomena  of  a  vJvid 
dream  were  noted,  which  included  the  sun  shining  upon  a 
snow-covered  landscape.  Comparison  of  the  brightness  of 
the  landscape  seen  in  the  dream,  immediately  after  waken- 
ing, indicated  that  the  brightness  seen  in  the  dream  was 
about  equivalent  to  that  of  a  moonlit  snow-covered  land- 
scape seen  in  a  waking  condition.  It  is  probable  that  tliis 
is  a  fair  estimate  of  the  relative  intensity  of  the  mental 
processes,  especially  feeling  and  consciousness,  in  sleep. 

That  this  is  a  true  interpretation  of  consciousness  is 
shown  also  by  the  action  of  narcotics,  such  as  opium,  not 
chloroform,  in  inducing  sleep.  Opium  and  morphine  have 
the  property  of  diminishing  the  amount  of  nervous  tissue 
oxidized  and  the  nervous  energy  generated.  Hence  the 
condition  of  sleep  is  induced  as  the  nervous  energy  is 
diminished.    Even  before  sleep  occurs,  there  is  a  decrease 


RELATION   OF  FEELING   TO  CONSCIOUSNESS  173 

in  the  feeling  that  is  experienced,  hence  it  is  that  we  have 
the  evidence  of  the  concomitant  of  feeling  in  the  concur- 
rence of  diminution  of  feeling  and  the  coming  on  of  sleep 
as  the  result  of  a  dose  of  opium.  Alcohol  has  something 
of  the  same  effect.  The  man  who  goes  out  to  "drown  his 
sorrows  in  drink,"  does  so  by  diminishing  the  amount  of 
nervous  energy  that  he  is  capable  of  generating.  We  can 
scarcely  wish  for  a  better  corroboration  of  the  concomi- 
tance of  feeling,  consciousness,  and  resistance  than  the 
example  of  the  effect  of  narcotics. 

The  mental  processes  occurring  in  sleep  are  identical 
with  those  in  a  waking  condition,  after  we  have  made 
allowance  for  their  diminished  intensity  and  have  realized 
that  attention  is  wanting.  The  lack  of  attention  from  all 
dream  processes  is  sufficient  to  account  for  the  fantastic 
nature  of  dreams. 

Some  such  hypothesis  as  is  here  proposed  will  obviate 
the  necessity  of  introducing  into  psychology  such  a  con- 
ception as  a  subconscious,  unconscious,  subliminal  or  sub- 
jective self  to  explain  important  phenomena,  which  the 
definition  of  every  mental  process  as  a  state  of  conscious- 
ness has  rendered  necessary.  As  soon  as  we  have  limited 
psychology  to  conscious  experience  we  are  compelled  to 
invent  some  kind  of  an  explanation  for  the  unconscious 
processes  upon  which  the  conscious  life  is  conditioned. 
We  immediately  involve  ourselves  in  a  maze  of  mytho- 
logical assumptions  which  are  incapable  of  demonstration 
or  disproof,  which  become  more  complex  with  each  de- 
mand, and  which  open  the  gates  to  all  kinds  of  charlatanry. 

Since  feeling  and  consciousness  vary  together,  it  is  not 
strange  that  one  may  be  mistaken  for  the  other,  or  that 
they  have  been  considered  as  identical.  But  it  is  possible 
to  separate  the  two  processes  by  abstraction  and  to  picture 
them  as  the  concomitants  of  different  elements  of  a  cur- 
rent. But  we  may  have  occasion  to  inquire  whether  or  not 
it  is  possible  to  experience  one  without  the  other.    Is  it 


174  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

possible  to  be  conscious  and  still  experience  no  feeling? 
Or  is  it  possible  to  experience  feeling  without  being  con- 
scious? The  relations  are  so  delicate  and  so  difficult  to 
understand  and  to  interpret  that  we  shall  have  difficulty 
in  making  the  phenomena  that  are  significant  appear  to 
be  so.  However,  the  phenomena  come  within  the  experi- 
ence of  every  one. 

Does  a  person  who  is  unconscious  experience  any  feel- 
ing? It  is  scarcely  adequate  to  limit  the  feeling  to  one 
having  a  painful  tone.  As  we  have  seen,  a  painful  tone  of 
feeling  implies  a  resistance  that  is  very  great.  But  there 
must  be  a  certain  amount  of  resistance  in  order  that  there 
shall  be  any  degree  of  feeling,  whether  it  be  one  having  a 
pleasurable  tone  or  a  painful  or  monotonous  tone.  Pain 
and  pleasure  are  merely  qualities  of  feeling,  and  there 
may  be  a  feeling  experienced,  even  when  there  is  neither  a 
painful  nor  a  pleasurable  tone  belonging  to  it. 

Next,  if  the  nervous  impulse  can  be  kept  from  radiating 
out  of  the  brain  center,  we  may  still  have  the  resistance 
in  the  brain  center  itself,  and  this  is  the  concomitant  of 
feeling.  In  order  to  experience  feeling  without  conscious- 
ness we  need  to  prevent  radiation  without  destroying  the 
resistance.  This  is  a  condition  that  may  be  brought  about 
in  two  ways :  first,  by  the  action  of  drugs,  such  as  chloro- 
form, and  second,  by  a  process  of  attention. 

The  action  of  chloroform  can  best  be  understood  by  mak- 
ing an  assumption,  which  all  observations  bearing  upon 
the  point  will  corroborate,  that  the  effect  of  chloroform  is 
to  cause  a  contraction  and  shrinking  of  the  dendrites,  as 
it  causes  the  withdrawal  of  the  pseudopodia  when  a  rhizo- 
pod  is  treated  with  it.  This  would  prevent  the  radiation 
of  the  impulse  out  of  the  brain  center.  At  the  same  time 
it  probably  causes  the  withdrawal  of  the  terminal  arboriza- 
tions of  the  cells  that  constitute  the  center  from  each  other, 
so  that  the  resistance  is  increased.  But  the  radiating 
effect  is  diminished  more  than  the  resisting  effect  is  in- 


RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  CONSCIOUSNESS      175 

creased,  and  the  net  result  is  a  loss  of  radiation  and  con- 
sciousness without  a  complete  destruction  of  resistance  in 
the  brain  center. 

This  phenomenon  is  complicated  by  a  change  in  gen- 
erating power,  which,  however,  seems  to  be  not  so  great  as 
in  case  of  morphine.  Here  we  are  in  position  to  under- 
stand what  seems  at  least  a  very  probable  hypothesis,  that 
under  the  influence  of  chloroform  a  very  considerable  feel- 
ing is  experienced,  of  which  we  are  unconscious.  Certainly 
the  phenomena  of  chloroform  narcosis  are  very  different 
from  those  of  morphine  sleep.  There  is  at  first  a  wild  dis- 
turbance of  the  sensory  images,  a  dancing  of  colors  before 
the  eyes,  unlike  that  which  occurs  in  going  to  sleep.  The 
movements  of  a  person  under  the  influence  of  chloroform, 
although  probably  much  less  than  they  would  be  without 
the  checking  effect  on  radiation,  are  evidence  corroborating 
the  hypothesis.  It  seems  pretty  definitely  established  that 
feeling  of  which  we  are  unconscious  may  be  experienced 
under  the  influence  of  chloroform. 

Attention  diminishes,  or  may  diminish  both  feeling  and 
consciousness.  The  mechanism  must  be  explained  in  a 
later  chapter,  but  when  attention  is  positive,  either  feeling 
or  consciousness  may  disappear.  A  person  who  has  an 
arm  shot  off  may  in  the  rapt  attention  which  we  call  the 
excitement  of  the  moment,  fail  to  know  that  he  has  been 
wounded.  But  the  resistance  has  been  or  may  be  experi- 
enced, and  the  feeling  may,  not  necessarily  must,  be  very 
great  while  the  consciousness  is  lacking. 

It  is  the  same  question  of  experiencing  a  sensation  with- 
out being  conscious  of  the  sensation.  The  difference,  how- 
ever, is  that  consciousness  does  not  vary  directly  with  the 
intensity  of  the  sensation,  but  inversely  with  it.  While  in 
feeling,  varying  directly  as  the  two  do,  and  arising  out  of 
the  same  condition,  the  separation  is  difficult  to  see. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  we  do  experience  sensations 
without  any  consciousness  of  them.     We  step  over  an 


176  THE   FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

obstruction  in  the  path,  and  are  unable  after  we  have 
stepped  over  it,  to  remember  that  there  was  any  obstruc- 
tion there.  The  fact  that  we  stepped  over  it  implies,  posi- 
tively, that  we  perceived  it.  The  fact  that  we  are  unable 
to  state  as  soon  as  the  action  is  completed  that  there  was 
an  obstruction  implies  that  there  was  no  consciousness  of 
the  experience. 

In  case  of  feeling,  the  separation  is  less  easy  to  see.  It 
appears,  however,  that  we  have  abundant  grounds  for  be- 
lieving that  we  may  experience  a  feeling  without  any  con- 
sciousness of  that  feeling.  In  fact,  nearly  all  feelings  that 
are  monotonous  rather  than  Indifferent,  neither  painful 
nor  pleasurable,  accompanying  resistances  that  are  below 
the  limit  even  of  a  pleasurable  tone,  are  usually  uncon- 
scious. It  appears  that  in  order  to  experience  even  the 
least  degree  of  consciousness,  there  must  be  a  slightly 
higher  degree  of  resistance.  This  is  largely  theory,  the 
proof  of  which  will  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case  be 
difficult  to  get,  but  all  observations  bearing  upon  the  mat- 
ter would  seem  to  imply  that  this  hypothesis  is  probable. 

All  feeling  in  sleep  may  be  said  to  occur  without  con- 
sciousness, but  consciousness  is  so  completely  a  relative 
term  that  we  are  scarcely  justified  in  using  the  term  un- 
conscious to  describe  all  sleeping  conditions.  If  we  permit 
ourselves  to  do  so,  we  shall  say  that  all  feelings  experi- 
enced in  sleep  are  unconscious. 

When  we  reverse  the  question,  is  it  possible  to  experi- 
ence consciousness  without  any  feeling,  it  is  probable 
that  we  cannot.  The  feeling  may  not  be  attended  by  a 
painful  tone,  nor  by  a  pleasurable  tone,  but  pain  and 
pleasure  are  not  necessarily  inherent  in  the  definition  of 
feeling.  But  if  there  is  a  sufficient  amount  of  resistance 
to  be  tlie  concomitant  of  consciousness,  the  probability  is 
that  the  resistance  is  sufficiently  great  to  accompany  some 
feeling. 


relation  op  feeling  to  consciousness  177 

Synopsis. 

1 — The  word  consciousness  is  used  in  two  senses:  first, 
the  awareness  of  our  own  mental  states  and  actions;  sec- 
ond, as  a  synonym  for  mind,  to  mean  any  form  of  mental 
process.  It  is  the  first  meaning  that  is  adopted  in  this 
hook. 

2 — Consciousness  is  not  a  necessary  concomitant  of 
every  mental  process,  and  many  mental  processes  are  un- 
attended by  it. 

3 — Consciousness  is  the  psychological  concomitant  of 
the  radiation  of  a  nervous  impulse  out  of  the  brain  center 
into  the  fringing  cells  that  are  neither  motor  nor  glandu- 
lar. The  radiation  depends  upon  the  resistance  encoun- 
tered. 

4 — Feeling  and  consciousness  vary  with  each  other,  al- 
though the  relation  is  not  a  causal  one.  Both  are  simi- 
larly related  to  the  resistance  encountered  in  the  brain 
center. 

5 — Consciousness  is  correlative  to  motor  expression,  and 
might  even  be  regarded  as  itself  an  expression  of  feeling. 

6 — It  is  possible  to  experience  feeling  without  conscious- 
ness, but  we  are  scarcely  likely  to  be  conscious  without 
experiencing  feeling. 


Chapter   XI. 
THE  RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  MEMORY. 

It  is  a  matter  of  common  observation  that  we  remember 
best  those  things  that  we  have  learned  with  much  feeling. 
If  we  are  interested  in  any  subject  of  study,  we  learn  it 
better  and  remember  it  longer.  Interest,  as  the  word  is 
generally  employed,  is  understood  to  mean  a  pleasurable 
feeling,  but  a  thing  that  is  learned  with  a  painful  feeling 
is  even  more  readily  remembered  and  recalled  more  vividly. 
The  story  is  told  that  in  Ancient  Greece,  when  it  was  de- 
sired to  establish  and  record  the  boundary  between  the 
territory  of  two  cities,  a  good,  lusty  boy  was  taken  to  the 
place  whose  location  it  was  desired  to  mark,  and  there  he 
was  given  a  terrible  beating.  This  rendered  him  a  living 
record  of  the  location,  for  it  was  believed  that  he  would 
not  readily  forget  the  place  of  his  agony. 

So  numerous  and  so  easily  observed  are  the  illustrations 
of  the  greater  readiness  of  remembering  the  things  that 
we  learn  with  feeling,  that  we  must  recognize  the  close 
relation  between  the  two  processes.  And  there  have  not 
been  wanting  psychologists  who  assert  that  feeling  is  nec- 
essary to  memory,  even  if  not  identical  with  it.  It  shall 
be  our  purpose  to  set  forth  as  clearly  as  possible,  what 
appears  to  be  the  actual  relation  between  the  two. 

It  may  be  said  in  the  first  place  that  nothing  is  remem- 
bered that  is  not  learned  with  some  degree  of  feeling.  We 
may  explain  this  by  tracing  out  the  process  by  which  a 
thing  that  is  remembered  is  learned.  In  order  to  remem- 
ber anything  it  must  be  reproduced  and  recognized  as 
having  been  experienced  before.  There  are,  therefore,  two 
elements  in  memory — mental  reproduction  and  mental 

179 


180  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

rcognition.  The  mental  process  must  be  reinstated  with 
the  same  conscious  elements.  If  the  mental  process  is  to 
be  reinstated,  it  seems  quite  evident  that  the  physiological 
concomitant  must  also  be  reproduced.  The  nervous  im- 
pulse that  was  involved  in  the  original  experience  must  be 
repeated.  A  nervous  impulse  must  pass  through  the  same 
combination  of  cells  that  was  traversed  in  the  original 
experience.  This  is  the  concomitant  of  mental  reproduc- 
tion. 

The  nervous  impulse  in  the  remembering  must  pass 
through  the  same  combination  of  cells.  There  can  be  but 
little  doubt  of  the  accuracy  of  this  statement,  although 
some  psychologists  have  sought  to  call  it  into  question, 
assuming  that  a  different  combination  is  traversed  by  an 
impulse  when  we  experience  an  idea  of  a  thing  from  tliat 
which  is  traversed  when  we  experience  a  percept  of  the 
same  thing.  The  association  areas  are  called  in  to  explain 
this  difference.  Such  a  device  would  seem  to  be  an  un- 
necessary multiplication  of  machinery  and  but  little  confi- 
dence can  be  placed  in  the  validity  of  such  an  assumption. 

The  statement  of  Bain  is  worthy  of  credence  here,  that 
"It  must  be  considered  as  almost  beyond  a  doubt  that  the 
renewed  feeling  (reinstated  process)  occupies  the  same 
parts  and  in  the  same  manner  as  the  original  feeling,  and 
no  other  part  and  in  no  other  manner  that  can  be  assigned" 
(Mind  and  Body,  p.  89).  Pillsbury  says  that  "The  treat- 
ment of  centrally  aroused  ideas  is  rendered  easier  by  the 
present-day  assumption  that  memory  images  and  the  orig- 
inal sensations  are  of  precisely  the  same  character"  (A*- 
tention,  p.  95).  To  insist  that  when  anything  is  remem- 
bered, the  nervous  impulse  must  pass  through  some  other 
combination  of  cells,  is  to  repeat  the  error  of  the  phrenolo- 
gists that  there  is  a  memory  center ;  or  to  do  what  is  worse, 
to  assume  that  there  is  some  kind  of  a  room  in  the  brain 
where  the  ideas  are  laid  away  in  cold  storage.  Still  worse 
is  it  to  make  the  assertion,  that  some  psychologists  have 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO   MEMORY  181 

not  hesitated  to  make,  that  ideas  are  packed  away  in  cells. 

One  element,  then,  in  memory  is  the  mental  reproduc- 
tion, which  has  for  its  concomitant  the  transmission  of  a 
nervous  impulse  through  the  same  combination  of  cells 
that  it  went  through  before.  Psysiologically,  then,  men- 
tal reproduction  is  the  concomitant  of  the  reinstatement 
of  a  nervous  impulse  in  the  same  brain  center.  There  is, 
however  a  difference  between  a  remembered  experience  and 
the  original  experience.  The  original  experience  is  stronger 
and  more  vivid  than  is  the  remembered  experience,  and 
this  difference  is  usually  associated  with  the  peripherally 
initiated  impulses  which  nearly  always  accompany  in  some 
manner  the  original  experience.  The  peripherally  initi- 
ated impulse  is  stronger,  more  intense,  and  the  accom- 
panying psychological  experience  is  more  vivid.  The  re- 
membered experience  is  usually  accompanied  only  by  cen- 
trally initiated  impulses  which  are  comparatively  feeble. 
Hence  arises  the  difference  in  vividness  between  the  re- 
membered experience  and  the  original  one.  Faint  and  vivid 
are  two  terms  used  by  Spencer  to  discriminate  the  original 
from  the  remembered  experience. 

This  distinction  furnishes  an  explanation  for  two  series 
of  phenomena  that  properly  belong  to  this  discussion.  The 
first  is,  that  the  remembered  experience  is  accompanied  by 
very  much  less  feeling  than  is  the  original  vivid  one.  So 
pronounced  is  this  difference  that  psychologists  generally 
assert  that  it  is  impossible  to  remember  a  feeling,  in  the 
proper  sense  of  the  word.  "When  we  remember  that  there 
is  almost  no  such  thing  as  a  memory  for  feelings  them- 
selves, but  only  for  the  conceptions  that  accompany  them, 
or  are  reinforced  by  them,  we  can  see  how  the  reminiscences 
of  adults  upon  this  point  must  be  received  with  caution. 
(Hall,  Adolescencey  Vol.  II,  p.  38.) 

It  is  possible  to  remember  that  a  feeling  has  been  experi- 
enced when  the  original  of  the  remembered  process  was  in 
progress,  but  it  is  impossible  to  reinstate  the  feeling.  While 


182  THE  FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

this  is  not  strictly  true,  as  everyone  knows  that  it  is  pos- 
sible to  reproduce  the  feeling  by  a  process  of  remember- 
ing in  a  slight  degree,  it  is  true  that  the  feeling  attached 
to  the  reinstated  experience  is  much  feebler  than  that  be- 
longing to  the  original.  In  a  good  many  cases,  the  original 
experience  was  accompanied  by  a  feeling  having  a  painful 
tone,  but  the  reproduction  of  the  experience  is  altogether 
pleasant.  This  is  merely  a  result  of  the  same  difference  in 
resistance  accompanying  the  original  and  the  remembered 
experience,  between  the  faint  and  the  vivid.  But  the  feel- 
ing even  of  the  remembered  experience,  may  be  so  vivid  as 
to  be  painful,  although  the  painful  character  will  ulti- 
mately disappear  as  the  result  of  habit.  Everyone  recalls 
with  pleasure  some  of  the  incidents  of  his  childhood, 
which,  when  they  occurred,  were  anything  but  pleasant. 
Here  we  have  the  psychological  explanation  of  the  old  say- 
ing that  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view. 

It  is  often  very  pleasant  to  contemplate  past  experience, 
and  this  would  not  be  true  if  it  were  impossible  to  reinstate 
a  feeling.  The  pleasure  becomes  less  as  the  recollections 
are  indulged  in  frequently,  and  never  is  it  as  vivid  as  the 
original.  The  taste  of  a  dish  of  ice  cream  affords  more 
pleasure  than  does  the  recollection  of  a  dish  that  once  was 
eaten.  It  is  much  less  unpleasant  to  remember  the  dose  of 
quinine  that  was  taken,  once  upon  a  time,  than  it  is  to 
take  another.  Faint  and  vivid,  peripherally  initiated  and 
centrally  initiated,  strong  and  weak,  little  resistance  and 
much  resistance,  pleasurable  and  less  pleasurable,  is  a 
series  of  circumstances  functionally  related  to  each  other 
in  the  domain  of  the  feelings. 

If  the  original  experience  be  one  that  is  accompanied  by 
centrally  initiated  impulses  only,  as  when  we  are  reading 
books  of  travel,  stories  of  incident  and  occurrences,  or  his- 
torical narrations  and  expositions,  there  is  not  likely  to  be 
the  same  difference  in  vividness  between  the  feelings  ac- 
companying the  remembered  and  the  original  experience. 


RELATION   OP   FEELING  TO   MEMORY  183 

There  is  a  difference,  but  the  difference  is  not  so  great. 
Our  most  intense  feelings,  whether  they  be  pleasurable  or 
painful,  are  those  accompanying  mental  processes  that 
are  attended  by  peripherally  initiated  impulses. 

This  leads  us  to  a  discussion  of  the  second  series  of  phe- 
nomena ;  that  the  processes  that  are  best  remembered  are 
those  in  which  a  personal  experience  with  the  things  them- 
selves is  involved.  If  the  original  experience  involves  many 
sensations,  and  is  accompanied  by  many  peripherally  ini- 
tiated impulses,  the  object  or  perception  is  likely  to  be 
best  remembered.  An  examination  of  the  structure  of  a 
grasshopper,  or  a  machine,  or  piece  of  apparatus  is  much 
more  likely  to  fix  in  mind  the  structure  of  the  object  ex- 
amined than  is  merely  a  description  of  the  thing.  Every 
teacher  knows  that  a  part  of  the  value  in  laboratory  work 
comes  from  the  fact  that  the  things  seen  are  better  remem- 
bered than  the  things  read  about.  The  impulses  are 
stronger,  the  percepts  clearer,  the  feelings  more  intense, 
and  the  experience  is  more  easily  reproduced. 

Many  writers  upon  psychology  speak  of  retentiveness  as 
a  property  of  memory.  A  man  is  said  to  have  a  retentive 
memory  if  he  remembers  well.  The  mind  is  said  to  retain 
its  impressions,  and  this  figure  is  similar  to  that  one 
which  speaks  of  the  ideas  or  impressions  being  stored  up 
in  the  brain.  It  may  be  well  for  us  to  examine  this  matter 
of  retention,  for  it  involves  an  hypothesis  of  the  nature  of 
the  memory  process  that  is  far  removed  from  anything 
that  can  be  properly  conceived. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  every  mental  experience  modifies 
every  subsequent  experience.  The  subsequent  experience  is 
something  different  from  what  it  would  be  if  the  antecedent 
experience  had  not  occurred.  But  this  does  not  mean  that 
a  portion  of  the  original  experience  is  left  in  the  mind. 
Every  nervous  impulse  that  traverses  the  brain  center  pro- 
duces a  modification  of  the  center  and  of  the  cells  that 
compose  it.     But  this  modification  is  not  properly  de- 


184  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

scribed  by  saying  that  the  cells  retain  a  portion  of  the 
former  experience. 

A  pavement  may  be  worn  out  by  the  feet  that  walk  over 
it.  Every  time  that  I  walk  upon  a  sidewalk  I  produce 
some  slight  modification  of  the  material  of  which  the  walk 
is  composed,  and  remove  a  few  particles  of  the  matter  of 
which  it  is  made.  But  the  sidewalk  does  not  retain  me  nor 
any  part  of  me.  I  have  produced  a  modification  in  the 
walk,  but  that  is  not  a  part,  or  a  trace  of  me  that  is  re- 
tained and  stored  up.  The  walk  has  been  modified,  and 
may  have  become  slightly  better  or  worse  to  walk  upon, 
but  the  few  particles  that  have  been  removed  cannot  be 
called  a  trace  that  is  retained.  In  the  same  manner,  the 
modification  of  the  brain  center  that  has  been  produced 
by  the  transmission  of  an  impulse  through  it  cannot  be 
called  a  trace  of  the  experience. 

This  is  the  answer  to  the  old  conundrum,  that  is  still 
troubling  a  few  psychologists :  "Where  is  the  idea  when 
it  is  no  longer  in  the  mind?'^  "Where  is  the  light  when 
the  candle  is  blown  out?"  The  question  involves  a  wholly 
pernicious  notion  of  the  idea,  and  a  clear  understanding  of 
what  its  nature  really  is  will  assist  much  in  solving  many 
problems  in  psychology.  No  such  clear  conception  of  the 
nature  of  the  idea  can  be  obtained  in  any  other  way  than 
by  thinking  of  it  in  terms  of  a  nervous  impulse  passing 
through  a  brain  center. 

We  may  discard  the  term  retention  as  an  improper  and 
misleading  expression  of  the  change  that  occurs  in  the 
brain  center,  which  favors  the  memory  process.  We  are 
brought  face  to  face  again  with  the  problem  that  has  con- 
fronted us  so  many  times :  "What  is  the  law  of  habit,  or 
what  is  its  neural  basis?"  We  are  compelled  to  think  of 
it  as  some  modification  of  mental  experience  which  has  for 
its  concomitant  some  change  in  the  nervous  arc  through 
which  an  impulse  is  regularly  transmitted.  We  shall  seek 
an  explanation  of  psychological  habit  in  its  neural  con- 
comitant 


RELATION   OF   PEELING   TO    MEMORY  185 

We  have  already  suggested  the  possibility  that  the  nerv- 
ous impulse  consists  of  the  transfer  of  atoms,  molecules, 
corpuscles,  or  ions  from  one  cell  to  another  of  the  nervous 
arc.  Let  us  think  of  it  as  consisting  of  the  transfer  of  the 
atoms  in  the  molecules  of  one  cell  to  the  molecules  of  an- 
other cell  so  changing  the  nature  of  the  molecules  that 
make  them  up.  When  an  atom,  or  a  large  number  of  atoms, 
is  jarred  loose  from  its  combination  in  the  molecules  of 
one  cell,  it  flies  to  the  molecule  of  an  adjacent  cell.  There 
is  a  replacement  of  one  quantity  of  atoms  by  another,  and 
a  necessity  for  the  rearrangement  of  the  atomic  structure. 

We  may  conceive  the  atoms  attaching  themselves  to  one 
side  of  the  molecule,  while  the  atoms  that  are  jarred  loose 
by  the  impact  escape  from  the  opposite  side.  The  atoms 
that  constitute  the  nervous  wave,  or  stream,  will  be  pre- 
vented from  flying  off  from  the  path  of  the  conductor  by 
the  insulating  material,  although  many  may  be  lost  in 
striking  against  the  insulating  walls.  Thus  the  atoms 
that  constitute  the  nervous  stream  will  pass  to  the  mole- 
cules in  the  path  of  the  conductor.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
suppose  that  every  atom  that  is  jarred  loose,  at  least  in 
the  early  currents  in  any  conductor,  reaches  the  next  mole- 
cule or  the  molecules  of  the  next  cell. 

But  if  there  is  a  regular  stream  of  atoms,  entering  a 
molecule  on  one  side,  and  corresponding  atoms  leaving  it 
on  the  other,  the  molecules  will  ultimately  become  polar- 
ized. One  pole  will  be  the  place  of  entrance  and  the  other 
will  be  the  place  of  exit  of  the  atoms.  This  polarization 
will  in  all  probability  take  the  form  of  growth,  so  that  we 
may  think  of  the  experienced  molecules  having  a  different 
shape,  possibly  elongated,  which  the  inexperienced  mole- 
cules do  not  have.  This  hypothesis  concerning  the  change 
in  the  shape  of  molecules  will  explain  the  processes  of 
growth  in  cells,  and  the  elongation  of  the  dendrites  and 
axons.  It  is  corroborated  by  the  very  limited  evidence  that 
an  axon  or  a  cell  transmits  impulses  in  one  direction  only. 


186  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

At  any  rate,  it  is  easy  for  us  to  suppose  that  as  a  result 
of  repeated  impulses  through  a  cell,  and  its  constitutent 
molecules,  the  cells  and  molecules  change  their  shape,  and 
this  change  renders  them  a  more  efficient  conductor  of  the 
impulse.  The  molecules  escape  from  their  combinations 
more  readily,  they  attach  themselves  to  the  next  with 
greater  facility,  a  larger  number  of  atoms  are  transferred, 
and  a  smaller  number  are  lost  in  transmission  by  impact 
against  the  walls  of  the  insulator,  or  other  source  of  failure 
to  find  their  places  in  the  molecules.  Change  in  shape  and 
elongation  of  the  cell  or  molecules  enables  us  to  under- 
stand the  phenomena  of  improved  conduction,  and  may  be 
considered  as  a  theory  of  the  neurological  basis  of  habit. 

Memory,  then,  resolves  itself  into  the  concomitant  of 
the  neurological  basis  of  habit.  But  the  process  which  is 
so  clearly  manifested  by  the  delicate  psychic  tests  of  the 
sensitiveness  of  nerve  tissue  is  displayed  in  other  tissues, 
except  that  the  other  tissues  are  not  so  sensitive,  and  do 
not  respond  so  readily  to  the  changes  of  growth.  The  tis- 
sues of  plants  change  their  shape  by  growth,  which  is 
modified  by  surrounding  circumstances.  Light,  heat, 
moisture,  gravitation,  all  have  an  effect  in  modifying  the 
growth  of  plants  and  shaping  their  organs  and  tissues. 
Every  experience  of  a  plant  with  light,  heat,  and  moisture 
modifies  its  growth,  and  the  subsequent  activities  of  the 
plant  are  determined  in  part  by  these  modifications.  Hence 
in  a  certain  sense  of  the  word  we  may  say  that  a  plant 
manifests  the  phenomena  of  memory,  but  this  is  an  unfor- 
tunate expression,  since  confusion  inevitably  arises  in  con- 
sequence of  using  the  same  term  to  express  two  different 
things.  Memory  must  be  limited  to  a  psychic  experience, 
and  must  not  include  a  physiological  process. 

Let  us  now  return  to  the  original  question  from  which 
we  have  diverged.  Why  do  we  remember  best  those  things 
whose  learning  has  been  attended  with  feeling?  Feeling 
is  the  concomitant  of  resistance.    Great  resistance  may  be 


RELATION   OF   PEELING  TO   MEMORY  187 

occasioned  by  great  strength  of  impulse.  The  greater  the 
nervous  impulse,  the  larger  the  number  of  atoms  that 
shift  from  one  molecule  to  another,  and  the  greater  the 
amount  of  change  in  the  shape  of  the  cell  and  the  mole- 
cules. Let  us  suppose  that  in  one  impulse,  an  average  of 
ten  atoms  are  exchanged  between  any  two  cells.  One  de- 
gree of  resistance  will  be  encountered,  and  a  corresponding 
amount  of  feeling  will  be  experienced,  a  similar  amount  of 
change  in  shape  will  be  manifested,  and  a  proportionate 
amount  of  growth  will  occur.  Let  us  suppose  that  in  an- 
other impulse,  the  number  of  atoms  exchanged  between 
any  two  molecules  is  100.  A  greater  degree  of  resistance 
will  be  encountered,  let  us  suppose  ten  times  the  amount, 
ten  times  the  amount  of  feeling  will  occur,  the  shape  of 
the  molecules  will  be  changed  ten  times  as  much,  ten  times 
the  amount  of  growth  will  be  exhibited,  the  facility  of 
transmission  will  be  increased  ten  times  as  much  by  the 
larger  impulse  as  by  the  smaller.  Consequently  the  next 
impulse  will  pass  through  the  same  arc  ten  times  as  easily 
after  the  larger  nervous  impulse  as  after  the  smaller. 
Amount  of  current,  number  of  atoms  changed,  degree  of 
resistance,  quantity  of  feeling,  change  in  shape,  rate  of 
growth,  facility  of  transmission,  readiness  of  remember- 
ing— all  of  these  seem  to  be  functions,  in  the  mathematical 
sense,  of  each  other.  Hence  it  is  that  what  is  learned  with 
feeling  is  likely  to  be  best  remembered. 

Here  we  have  the  general  law  for  remembering,  and  an 
explanation  of  all  rules  and  processes  that  are  recom- 
mended for  becoming  skillful  in  the  process.  Also  we  have 
an  explanation  why  it  is  that  it  seems  impossible  for  us  to 
remember  at  certain  times.  Anything  that  prevents  our 
generating  and  driving  through  the  nervous  arc  as  large 
an  impulse  as  usual,  detracts  from  our  ability  to  remem- 
ber. We  remember  poorly  when  we  are  fatigued.  The 
fatigue  prevents  the  liberation  of  as  much  energy  as  is 
necessary,  and  it  increases  resistance  to  such  an  extent 


188  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

that  less  energy  is  driven  through.  We  may  experience 
much  feeling  in  learning,  even  painful  feeling,  when  we 
are  fatigued,  but  the  thing  that  is  learned  is  not  well  re- 
membered. So  when  we  are  in  poor  health  and  feeling 
bad,  we  are  in  condition  to  liberate  little  energy,  and  we 
do  not  remember  well.  We  do  not  remember  well  what 
we  learn  when  we  are  sleepy,  since  sleepiness  is  a  condi- 
tion in  which  little  energy  is  generated.  We  remember  best 
what  we  learn  when  giving  the  greatest  amount  of  atten- 
tion to  the  subject,  for  attention  is  the  process  by  which 
the  largest  possible  amount  of  energy  is  directed  into  and 
through  a  brain  center.  Hence,  with  the  same  amount  of 
energy  generated,  we  may  by  a  process  of  attention  learn 
a  thing  so  that  it  will  be  remembered  well.  Usually,  a 
thing  that  is  learned  to  the  accompaniment  of  peripherally 
initiated  impulses  is  best  remembered,  since  peripherally 
initiated  impulses  generally  consist  of  a  greater  amount 
of  nervous  energy  than  do  centrally  initiated  ones.  A 
great  nervous  impulse  will  modify  the  nervous  arc  and 
enable  us  to  remember  better  than  a  small  one.  Repetition 
assists  in  remembering,  because  several  impulses  have  a 
greater  effect  in  modifying  the  nervous  arc  than  does  a 
single  one. 

So  while  it  is  a  general  rule  that  we  remember  best  what 
is  learned  with  the  most  feeling,  the  rule  applies  strictly 
only  to  those  cases  in  which  the  greater  resistance,  which 
is  the  concomitant  of  the  great  feeling,  arises  from  the 
transmission  of  a  strong  nervous  current  through  a  nerv- 
ous arc.  If  the  feeling  comes  from  a  diseased  condition  of 
the  arc,  or  from  the  nature  of  the  arc  itself,  instead  of 
from  the  strength  of  the  current,  the  feeling  is  no  satisfac- 
tory indication  of  better  remembering.  Too  much  feeling, 
a  painful  tone,  may  be  of  such  a  nature  as  to  interfere  with 
the  growth  of  the  cells  of  the  arc,  and  instead  of  enabling 
us  to  remember  better,  it  may  diminish  our  power  to  re- 
member.   Children  who  learn  something  as  a  task  that  is 


RELATION   OP   FEELING  TO   MEMORY  189 

exceedingly  disagreeable  to  them  do  not  remember  it  better 
in  consequence  of  the  greater  feeling  with  which  it  is 
learned.  Intensity  of  feeling  is  not  always  and  under  all 
circumstances,  evidence  of  facility  or  certainty  of  remem- 
bering. 

So  far,  our  discussion  of  feeling  in  its  relation  to  mem- 
ory has  been  limited  to  the  factor  of  mental  reproduction 
alone.  Eetentiveness  we  have  excluded  from  the  discus- 
sion as  not  a  factor  at  all.  But  mental  reproduction  is  not 
in  itself  memory.  Mental  reproduction  may  exist  without 
any  mental  recognition,  and  the  result  cannot  be  called 
memory.  Much  more  frequently  then  we  are  aware,  we 
reproduce  ideas  that  we  have  obtained  from  other  per- 
sons, and  we  believe  them  to  be  our  own  and  original  with 
us.  Probably  most  of  our  brilliant  ideas  are  of  this  kind. 
It  seems  as  if  in  the  organization  of  our  knowledge,  it  is 
necessary  that  the  element  of  mental  recognition  shall 
drop  out,  and  the  reproduced  ideas  be  brought  into  juxta- 
position as  if  they  had  really  originated  with  our  own 
thinking  processes.  Certain  it  is  that  the  element  of  re- 
production may  occur  without  the  element  of  mental  rec- 
ognition, and  it  is  possible  that  mental  recognition  may 
occur  without  mental  reproduction. 

Before  we  can  say  that  a  thing  is  remembered,  it  must 
be  recognized  as  the  subject  of  a  former  experience.  Men- 
tal reproduction  and  mental  recognition  are  both  neces- 
sary to  memory.  Consciousness  of  the  experience  as  hav- 
ing been  in  the  mind  before  constitutes  the  element  of 
mental  recognition.  What  is  its  physiological  concomi- 
tant ?  The  proper  logical  answer  to  this  question  will  en- 
able us  to  perceive  the  true  relation  between  recognition 
and  feeling.  Memory  is  the  reproduction  of  a  past  experi- 
ence with  all  its  conscious  elements.  In  order  to  remem- 
ber a  thing,  we  must  be  conscious  of  the  thing  when  it  is 
experienced.  But  we  have  interpreted  consciousness  as 
the  concomitant  of  the  radiation  of  the  nervous  impulse 


190  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

out  of  the  brain  center  into  the  fringing  cells,  and  the  con- 
comitant of  mental  recognition,  then,  will  be  the  radiation 
of  the  nervous  impulse  out  of  the  center  into  the  same 
fringing  cells  into  which  it  spread  on  the  primary  occasion. 
This  will  comply  with  our  definition  of  memory  as  the  re- 
instatement of  an  experience  with  the  same  conscious  ele- 
ments and  we  may  recognize  the  physiological  concomitant 
in  the  transmission  of  a  nervous  impulse  through  the  same 
brain  center  that  it  went  through  before,  and  the  spread- 
ing out  into  the  same  fringing  cells. 

When  we  are  trying  to  remember  a  man's  name,  we  have 
a  feeling  of  familiarity.  We  know  what  it  is  that  we  are 
searching  our  memory  for;  we  are  acqiiainted  with  many 
of  the  attending  circumstances  that  were  in  the  fringe  of 
consciousness  when  we  learned  the  name,  but  we  fail  to 
recall  it.  We  drive  the  nervous  impulse  through  the  cen- 
ters corresponding  to  each  of  these  attending  circum- 
stances, trying  to  make  it  slip  over  into  the  center  which, 
when  traversed,  will  accompany  the  name,  but  we  fail  to 
make  it  go  through  the  name  center.  Finally  we  come  to 
some  circumstance,  from  which  it  seems  that  the  passage 
over  into  the  name  center  is  easier  than  it  was  from  the 
others,  and  the  impulse  passes  over  and  we  remember  the 
name.  The  name  is  reproduced.  It  seems  as  if  in  this  ex- 
perience of  the  fringing  circumstances  and  the  feeling  of 
familiarity,  we  have  the  element  of  mental  recognition 
without  that  of  mental  reproduction.  Everything  is  ready 
to  recognize  the  name  as  soon  as  it  is  reproduced.  This 
fact  of  mental  recognition  without  reproduction  is  men- 
tioned by  several  writers.  Colvin  and  Bagley  speak  clearly 
about  it.  ''While  as  a  rule,  recall  is  accompanied  by  recog- 
nition, recognition  often  takes  place  without  recall."  (Hu- 
man Behavior f  p.  246.) 

If  this  hypothesis  is  a  valid  one,  the  role  of  feeling  in 
memory  is  at  once  apparent,  and  the  question  why  we  re- 
member best  the  things  that  we  learn  with  feeling  is  easily 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO    MEMORY  191 

answered.  In  order  that  there  shall  be  a  radiation  of  the 
impulse  out  of  the  center  into  the  fringing  cells,  there  must 
be  resistance  encountered,  and  feeling  will  inevitably  ac- 
company it.  Anything  that  was  learned  without  con- 
sciousness would  not  be  recognized  even  if  it  were  repro- 
duced. Consequently,  feeling,  the  concomitant  of  resist- 
ance, is  almost  inevitable  in  the  learning  of  anything  that 
is  remembered.  But  the  feeling  is  not  the  cause  of  the  re- 
membering, but  is  rather  an  inevitable  accompaniment. 
There  is  no  causal  relation  between  memory  and  feeling. 

The  above  consideration  will  enable  us  to  account  for 
the  fact  that  mental  recognition  is  likely  to  disappear 
much  sooner  than  the  element  of  mental  reproduction.  As 
an  experience  is  reinstated  a  good  many  times,  the  passage 
through  the  brain  center  becomes  easier,  there  is  less  re- 
sistance, the  reproduction  is  more  effective  and  accom- 
plished with  greater  ease,  but  in  consequence  of  the  dimin- 
ished resistance,  the  nervous  impulse  is  not  compelled  to 
radiate  out  into  the  fringing  cells.  Hence  the  element  of 
recognition  is  likely  to  disappear  sooner  than  is  the  ele- 
ment of  reproduction,  and  even  to  disappear  as  the  element 
of  reproduction  increases  in  certainty  and  force. 

Just  as  in  the  case  of  mental  reproduction,  however,  this 
feeling  is  the  accompaniment  of  mental  recognition  only 
when  it  comes  as  the  result  of  a  large  and  strong  nervous 
current.  If  the  resistance  occurs  in  consequence  of  the 
natural  inertness  of  the  brain  tissue,  or  some  pathological 
condition  of  the  centers,  the  resistance  and  the  concomi- 
tant feeling  will  have  no  effect  in  increasing  the  probability 
of  the  element  of  mental  recognition  arising. 

Synopsis. 

1 — Memory  is  the  reinstatement  of  a  previous  mental 
experience  with  the  same  conscious  elements.  Its  physio- 
logical concomitant  is  the  reinstatement  of  a  nervous  im- 


192  THE   FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

pulse  in  the  same  drain  center  that  it  passed  through  he- 
fore,  and  its  radiation  into  the  same  fringing  cells. 

2 — The  remembered  experience  is  less  vivid  than  the 
original,  and  is  accompanied  by  less  feeling. 

3 — We  remember  best  the  things  we  learn  with  feeling 
if  the  concomitant  resistance  arises  as  the  result  of  a  large 
amount  of  nervous  energy  transmitted.  If  the  concomi- 
tant resistance  arises  from  fatigue,  disease,  or  some  other 
property  of  the  nervous  arc  itself,  we  do  not  remember 
better  the  things  that  we  learn  with  feeling. 

4 — The  memory  process  resolves  itself  into  the  concomi- 
tant of  neural  habit. 

5 — It  is  scarcely  proper  to  speak  of  memory  in  connec- 
tion with  plants,  or  with  animals  that  do  not  manifest  the 
phenomena  of  mental  activity. 


Chapter   XII. 
THE  RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  ATTENTION. 

In  entering  upon  the  study  of  attention  in  any  of  its 
relations,  we  are  undertaking  one  of  the  most  difficult 
problems  in  the  whole  range  of  the  science  of  psychology. 
It  involves  some  of  the  most  refractory  materials  in  the 
psychological  complex.  Fortunately,  it  appears  that  there 
is  a  possibility  of  applying  the  methods  of  experiment  to 
its  investigation,  so  that  ultimately  it  may  appear  not  so 
obscure  as  it  seems  to  be  at  present. 

A  probable  hypothesis  for  directing  observation  and 
experiment  is  very  much  needed  in  the  study  of  attention, 
perhaps  even  more  than  in  any  other  phase  of  the  subject. 
It  appears  that  much  energy  is  being  devoted  to  lines  of 
observation  that  can  prove  profitable  only  by  demon- 
strating what  it  is  not.  Fortunately  also  for  our  study, 
the  probable  hypothesis  of  attention  is  necessarily  in- 
volved in  that  of  feeling. 

A  nervous  impulse  is  caused  to  follow  its  path  in  trav- 
ersing the  brain  center,  and  in  passing  from  one  center  to 
another,  by  the  degree  of  resistance  which  exists  in  the 
possible  paths  that  it  may  take.  The  current  follows  the 
path  of  least  resistance,  and  when  this  is  considerable,  it 
appears  to  be  divided.  While  the  main  portion  passes 
directly  through  the  nervous  arc,  another  radiates  into 
other  cells  than  those  immediately  involved.  We  may  be 
perfectly  assured  that  the  nervous  impulse,  in  a  general 
way,  follows  the  path  of  least  resistance.  Any  process  by 
which  the  resistance  may  be  varied  between  brain  centers 
will  direct  the  impulse,  and  we  are  unable  to  suppose  any 
other  process  by  which  it  can  be  directed.    In  this  con- 

193 


194  THE  PEELINGS  OF   MAN 

sideration,  we  have  the  key  to  an  explanation  of  attention. 

Attention  is  a  mental  process,  but  we  shall  best  under- 
stand it  by  means  of  its  physiological  concomitant,  if  we 
can  determine  what  that  concomitant  is.  We  may  be  quite 
safe  in  asserting  that  attention  is  the  concomitant  of  a 
process  by  which  a  nervous  impulse  is  directed  into  and 
through  a  brain  center.  But  this  is  a  double  process, 
manifesting  two  phases,  both  of  which  are  involved  in 
every  act  of  attention. 

In  order  to  direct  an  impulse  into  a  brain  center,  the 
resistance  must  be  decreased  between  the  center  where  the 
impulse  is  and  the  center  into  which  it  is  to  go.  But  at 
the  same  time  the  resistance  must  be  increased  between 
the  center  in  which  the  impulse  is  and  the  center  into 
which  it  is  not  to  go.  The  process  by  which  the  resistance 
is  decreased  is  the  concomitant  of  positive  attention,  and 
that  by  which  the  resistance  is  increased  is  the  concomi- 
tant of  negative  attention.  In  every  act  of  attention,  then, 
we  have  these  two  processes  of  increasing  the  resistance  in 
one  place  and  decreasing  it  in  another.  Attention  is  a 
double  process,  and  its  physiological  concomitant  must 
manifest  the  same  duplex  character. 

If  our  explanation  of  the  general  character  of  attention 
is  at  all  plausible,  it  is  at  once  seen  that  there  is  no  possi- 
bility of  localizing  the  process  of  attention,  in  any  portion 
of  the  brain.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  an  attention  cen- 
ter, as  there  is  a  sight  center  and  a  hearing  center,  for 
attention  is  a  process  whose  function  is  manifested  in  any 
center  and  between  any  two.  Some  experimental  evidence 
has  been  adduced  which  is  interpreted  to  indicate  that  the 
process  of  attention  is  located  in  the  frontal  lobes.  The 
nature  of  this  evidence  is  to  show  that  when  the  frontal 
lobes  are  removed  or  injured,  there  is  a  failure  of  atten- 
tion. We  may  admit  the  fact  without  admitting  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  interpretation.  The  strong  probability  is 
that  the  excision  of  any  considerable  portion  of  the  cortex 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO  ATTENTION  196 

in  which  nervous  energy  is  generated  would  result  in  the 
failure  of  attention  in  an  equal  degree.  The  indications 
of  a  weakening  of  attention  will  manifest  themselves 
whenever  and  wherever  there  is  a  lack  of  nervous  energy. 
We  may  pass  by  the  theory  of  the  location  of  attention  in 
the  frontal  lobes,  as  not  only  unwarranted  by  the  evidence, 
but  as  highly  improbable  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  and 
contradicted  by  other  well  observed  phenomena. 

There  are  several  suppositions  that  may  be  made  con- 
cerning the  nature  of  the  process  by  which  the  resistance 
may  be  varied.  We  have  already  seen  reason  to  believe 
that  the  resistance  is  encountered  at  the  synpases,  or 
points  of  junction  of  the  neurons,  where  an  impulse  leaves 
one  neuron  and  enters  another.  We  have  spoken  of  the 
neuroglia  as  being  an  insulating  substance,  meaning  that 
it  offers  more  resistance  to  the  passage  of  a  nervous  im- 
pulse than  does  the  cell  substance.  Although  difficult  of 
demonstration,  this  is  in  all  probability  true.  The  prob- 
lem, then,  of  decreasing  resistance  depends  upon  varying 
the  conducting  capacity  of  that  small  portion  of  the  neu- 
roglia which  separates  the  arboral  terminations  of  the 
neurons  from  each  other. 

At  least  two  methods  are  conceivable.  We  may  suppose 
that  the  neuroglia  changes  its  conductivity  at  the  point  of 
nearest  approach  of  the  neurons,  something  as  the  insu- 
lating material  of  an  electric  conductor  may  have  its  con- 
ductivity increased  by  becoming  wet.  This  is  the  hypoth- 
esis advanced  by  Sherrington,  who  conceives  of  the  neu- 
roglia surrounding  the  neuronic  extensions  as  a  synaptic 
membrane  whose  osmotic  conductivity  is  variable,  and 
functional  in  only  one  direction.  No  supposition  is  ad- 
vanced about  the  mechanism  by  which  the  osmotic  con- 
ductivity can  be  varied,  and  the  hypothesis  seems  less 
probable  than  the  next  to  be  considered. 

Instead  of  this  we  may  suppose  that  the  tips  of  the 
axonic  and  dendritic  terminations  of  two  cells  may  ap- 


196  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

proximate  each  other  more  closely  so  as  to  bring  them  into 
physiological  communication,  though  not  likely  into 
physical  contact.  This  would  be  the  condition  of  positive 
attention,  while  a  wider  separation  of  the  tips  of  the 
dendrites  would  be  the  condition  of  negative  attention. 
The  shifting  of  the  dendrites,  then,  either  toward  each 
other  to  accompany  positive,  or  away  from  each  other  to 
accompany  negative,  w^ould  be  the  physiological  concomi- 
tant of  attention.  This  second  hypothesis  is  more  easily 
understood,  and  will  be  adopted  provisionally  in  these 
explanations.  Whether  this  shifting  of  the  dendrites  is 
the  actual  process  by  which  the  resistance  is  increased  or 
decreased,  or  not,  cannot  be  positively  affirmed,  but  the 
psychological  facts  that  are  observed  would  all  be  ex- 
plained by  the  operation  of  this  process. 

There  is  some  evidence,  based  upon  the  observations  of 
Rabl-Ruckard,  M.  Duval  and  others,  that  the  dendrites  do 
shift  their  position.  The  principal  value  of  their  observa- 
tions for  us,  however,  is  to  demonstrate  that  there  is  such 
a  possibility.  The  amount  of  movement  observed  by  them 
would  necessarily  be  altogether  inadequate  to  account  for 
such  phenomena  as  we  find  manifested  in  attention.  The 
phenomena  of  attention  demand  a  quick  movement  through 
molecular  distances,  or  distances  so  small  as  scarcely  to 
come  within  the  limits  of  microscopical  observation.  And 
the  observation  would  have  to  be  made  upon  some  animal 
in  which  the  attentive  processes  were  as  rapid  as  those  of 
man,  and  probably  in  very  few  animals  that  could  be  ob- 
served do  such  processes  occur.  Hence  it  is  very  doubtful 
if  the  phenomena  of  movement  that  this  theory  of  atten- 
tion demands  could  ever  be  observed.  It  is  like  the  dance 
of  the  atoms  that  no  one  has  seen,  but  the  phenomena  that 
we  can  observe  demand  such  a  movement  for  their  ex- 
planation. 

The  movement  of  the  dendrites  has  been  appealed  to  by 
several  writers  to  explain  various  things,  so  that  the  idea 


RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  ATTENTION        197 

is  not  a  new  one.  Morat  says  (Physiology  of  the  Nervous 
System,  p.  23)  :  "If  the  neurons  are  fixed,  they  are  neces- 
sarily immobile.  If  they  are  free  from  attachment,  they 
are  capable  of  receding  and  approaching  each  other  under 
conditions  that  are  not  yet  ascertained.  Kabl-Ruckard, 
Lepine,  Tanzi,  M.  Duval,  have  appealed  to  displacements 
of  this  kind  to  explain  the  dissociations,  variations,  func- 
tional paralyses  which  are  observed  in  health  and  in  cer- 
tain maladies." 

Wundt  (Physiological  Psychology,  Vol.  I,  p.  46)  asserts 
that :  "They  [the  fibers]  never  mediate  a  connection  di- 
rectly between  cell  and  cell.  Whenever  such  a  connection 
occurs,  it  appears  to  be  mediated  solely  by  the  contact  into 
which  the  dendrites  and  collaterals  are  brought  with  one 
another  throughout  the  gray  substance.  This  view  finds 
support  in  the  observations  made  upon  the  peripheral  ter- 
minations of  the  nerve  fibers."  Also,  (p.  51)  :  "The 
anatomical  plan  of  neuron  connections  is  evidently  more 
adequate  than  this  older  view  to  the  physiological  results 
which  prove  that  there  exists  along  with  certain  localiza- 
tions of  function,  a  very  considerable  capacity  for  adapta- 
tion to  changed  conditions."  Again,  (p.  54)  :  "Amoeboid 
movements  of  the  dendrites  were  first  described  by  Rabl- 
Ruckard."  So  we  shall  find  that  quite  a  number  of  psy- 
chologists have  observed  dendritic  movements  of  various 
kinds,  and  the  conclusions  that  we  may  draw  from  their 
observations  is  that  the  tips  of  the  dendrites  are  not  fixed. 
The  determination  of  the  dendritic  movement  as  the  con- 
comitant of  attention  is  altogether  hypothetical,  and  is 
perhaps  beyond  the  limits  of  observation. 

We  may  call  this  theory  of  attention,  the  brain- cell 
movement,  or  the  dendritic  movement  theory  of  attention. 
It  will  account  nicely  for  the  process  of  varying  the  resist- 
ance between  centers  and  for  directing  the  current.  All 
the  phenomena  of  attention  will  find  an  easy  explanation 
upon  this  theory.    But  the  difficult  matter  is  to  account 


198  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

for  the  movement  of  the  dendrites.  Why  should  they 
move?  Here  we  touch  upon  the  fundamental  problem  in 
psychology  and,  like  the  question  ^'Why  anything  is",  we 
shall  have  to  set  it  aside  without  discussion  until  happily 
we  may  be  able  to  answer  other  ultimate  questions.  The 
phenomena  of  dendritic  movement  appears  to  be  of  the 
same  order  as  that  of  the  movement  of  any  other  organic 
unit.  Why  does  an  amoeba  move  as  it  does?  Why  does  a 
sensitive  plant  droop  its  leaves?  Why  does  a  nervous 
impulse  invariably  accompany  a  mental  process?  These 
are  questions  of  the  same  order,  and  at  present  a  discus- 
sion of  them  will  be  found  unprofitable. 

In  cases  of  voluntary  attention,  there  is  always  experi- 
enced a  consciousness  of  effort.  Investigations  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  attention  have  been  directed  largely  upon  it, 
and  the  conclusion  has  often  been  reached  that  the  feeling 
of  effort  is  associated  with  muscular  tension.  So  much 
impressed  have  some  investigators  been  with  these  mus- 
cular phenomena,  influenced  also  probably  by  James's 
theory  of  feeling,  that  they  have  not  hesitated  to  declare 
that  the  muscular  tension  accompanying  the  feeling  of 
effort  is  attention ;  that  attention  consists  of  the  muscular 
movement  and  nothing  else. 

Instead  of  agreeing  that  muscular  tension  is  the  origin 
of  the  feeling  of  effort,  others  have  believed  it  possible  to 
demonstrate  that  it  was  the  feeling  of  muscular  innerva- 
tion instead.  The  evidence  in  support  of  this  view  is 
found  in  the  fact  that  when  a  muscle  is  paralyzed,  the  feel- 
ing of  effort  is  as  strong  as  it  ever  was.  It  seems  that  the 
muscular  contraction  is  not  at  all  necessary  to  the  feeling 
of  effort.  This  is  a  fact  that  can  be  testified  to  by  very 
many  persons.  Hence  it  is  argued  that  it  must  be  the 
innervation  rather  than  the  muscular  contraction  that  is 
the  origin.  Although  the  facts  cannot  be  denied,  and  the 
advocates  of  the  muscular  contraction  theory  of  effort  in 
attention  cannot  explain  them,  nevertheless  the  theory 


RELATION   OF  FEELING  TO  ATTENTION  .  199 

that  it  is  the  muscular  innervation  instead  of  muscular 
contraction  is  not  very  generally  accepted. 

It  is  without  any  doubt,  in  cases  of  partial  paralysis,  the 
nerve  fiber  that  is  deprived  of  function  and  not  the  muscle. 
Hence  the  muscle  is  not  innervated,  and  the  nervous  im- 
pulse reaches  only  into  the  fiber  so  far  as  its  function  is 
not  destroyed.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  in  such 
cases  the  nervous  impulse  passes  out  of  the  brain  center, 
and  we  may  with  as  much  reason  locate  the  origin  of  the 
feelings  of  effort  in  the  brain  center  as  in  the  nerve  itself. 
It  seems  in  the  light  of  the  evidence,  that  the  real  feeling 
of  effort  is  not  in  the  contracting  muscle,  but  is  a  central, 
nervous  function. 

Ribot  localizes  the  feeling  of  effort  in  the  head,  and  be- 
lieves that  it  is  caused  by  the  contraction  of  the  muscles 
on  the  outside  of  the  skull.  It  will  probably  be  found  that 
the  feeling  of  effort  is  localized  in  the  head,  but  instead  of 
being  on  the  outside  of  the  skull,  it  is  on  the  inside.  We 
may  be  pretty  certain  that  it  is  associated  in  some  manner 
with  the  movement  of  the  dendrites,  not  with  the  contrac- 
tion of  the  muscles  of  the  face  nor  of  the  body. 

We  may  agree  that  muscular  contraction  many  times,  if 
not  every  time,  accompanies  the  process  of  effortful,  vol- 
untary attention,  and  yet  not  be  willing  to  admit  that  the 
muscular  contraction  is  attention.  It  seems  rather  easy 
to  demonstrate  that  instead  of  being  attention,  the  mus- 
cular contraction  accompanying  it  is,  in  so  far  as  it  exists, 
a  failure  of  attention. 

If  there  is  a  decided  feeling  of  effort,  we  shall  nearly 
always  find  a  vigorous  muscular  contraction.  But  if  there 
is  a  feeling  of  effort  in  attention,  it  will  easily  be  under- 
stood that  much  resistance  is  encountered  in  the  brain 
center  through  which  the  nervous  impulse  is  passing. 
Effortful  attention  is  a  painful  and  fatiguing  process,  since 
great  resistance  is  encountered.  But  when  resistance  is 
encountered  in  the  brain  center,  the  nervous  impulse  tends 


200  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

to  spread  out  into  other  centers,  and  to  go  over  into  those 
that  are  most  easy  of  access,  which  as  we  have  previously 
found  are  likely  to  be  the  motor  centers,  and  muscular  con- 
traction results.  If  attention  were  to  be  perfect,  directing 
the  nervous  impulse  into  and  through  the  brain  centers, 
decreasing  the  resistance  in  the  center  itself,  and  increas- 
ing the  resistance  between  the  one  center  and  the  surround- 
ing cells,  the  nervous  impulse  would  not  escape  from  the 
brain  center,  there  would  be  no  overflow,  hence  muscular 
movement  would  not  occur.  The  muscular  movement  that 
is  observed  in  attention,  then,  results  from  a  failure  of 
attention  to  confine  the  impulse  to  the  brain  center,  and 
permitting  it  to  escape. 

Also,  if  the  attention  is  not  successful  in  confining  the 
impulse  to  the  brain  center  by  diminishing  resistance  in  it, 
we  shall  have  much  resistance,  and  the  muscular  contrac- 
tion that  follows  will  be  accompanied  by  vivid  conscious- 
ness. Consciousness,  muscular  contraction,  much  feeling 
accompany  effortful  attention  that  is  not  thoroughly  suc- 
cessful. Consciousness,  muscular  contraction,  much  feel- 
ing are  not  marks  of  successful  attention,  but  rather  indi- 
cations of  the  failure  of  attention  to  accomplish  its  most 
perfect  work. 

If  the  attention  is  successful  in  directing  the  nervous 
impulse  through  the  brain  center,  without  letting  any 
large  proportion  of  it  escape,  we  shall  be  ahlo  to  accomplish 
very  much  more  intellectual  work  with  the  expenditure  of 
the  same  amount  of  energy  than  if  the  attention  is  not  so 
successful.  We  may  be  very  sure  that  if  much  feeling  is 
manifested  in  doing  intellectual  work,  much  muscular  con- 
traction that  has  been  called  the  expression  of  feeling,  and 
a  vivid  consciousness  of  what  we  are  doing,  the  attention 
is  not  succeeding  so  well  as  it  might  in  doing  the  work  it 
is  capable  of  accomplishing. 

Did  you  ever  see  a  large  boy  learning  to  write?  He 
grips  his  pen  hard,  bends  his  head  down  to  his  work,  twists 


RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  ATTENTION        201 

his  feet  around  each  other,  moves  his  head  in  unison  with 
the  movement  of  his  pen,  his  whole  body  sways,  his  tongue 
is  thrust  out  and  follows  the  stroke  of  his  pen.  He  must, 
according  to  the  muscular  movement  theory,  be  giving 
great  and  successful  attention  to  his  work.  But  his  writ- 
ing does  not  show  that  attention  has  been  successful. 
When  he  has  learned  to  direct  his  energy  more  skillfully, 
he  is  able  to  sit  up  straight,  to  move  his  pen  without  mov- 
ing his  head  or  swaying  his  body,  and  his  pen  is  not 
gripped  so  hard.  Attention  is  more  successful,  the  ex- 
traneous movements  disappear,  and  the  writing  is  better 
done.  Feeling  is  diminished,  writing  becomes  a  less  pain- 
ful process,  he  can  write  without  being  so  intensely  con- 
scious of  what  he  is  trying  to  do,  and  more  work  is  accom- 
plished with  the  expenditure  of  the  same  energy. 

The  closeness  of  the  relation  between  feeling  and  atten- 
tion is  involved  in  the  muscular  movement  theory  of  atten- 
tion. We  have  already  considered  muscular  movement  as 
an  expression  of  feeling,  and  the  advocates  of  the  muscular 
movement  theory  assume  that  the  movements  we  have 
described  as  the  expression  of  feeling  constitute  attention. 
Attention,  then,  is  nothing  more  than  the  expression  of 
feeling.  It  seems  that  this  is  a  legitimate  deduction  from 
the  premises  adopted  by  the  advocates  of  the  muscular 
contraction  theory. 

But  attention  and  feeling  are  closely  related,  although 
we  cannot  admit  that  they  are  identical,  nor  that  atten- 
tion is  nothing  more  than  the  expression  of  feeling.  We 
have  described  attention  as  the  psychological  concomitant 
of  the  process  by  which  the  resistance  in  the  brain  center 
and  from  one  center  to  another  is  varied.  It  is  evident, 
then,  that  attention  is  a  process  by  which  feeling  may  be 
varied,  and  this  is  one  of  the  most  striking  phenomena  of 
attention. 

The  fact  that  attention  is  a  double  process  involving 
both  positive  and  negative  attention,  makes  it  a  difficult 


202  THE  FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

process  to  study.  We  have  no  means  of  discriminating 
positive  from  negative  except  by  results,  and  we  can  image 
the  two  processes  only  by  means  of  their  physiological  con- 
comitant. When  we  speak  of  attention,  it  is  seldom  that 
the  speaker  distinguishes  which  kind,  positive  or  negative, 
is  meant.  Hence  it  is  that  the  most  contradictory  con- 
clusions are  drawn  concerning  the  function  and  the  effect 
of  attention.  Any  satisfactory  theory  of  attention  must 
harmonize  the  apparently  contradictory  experiences,  and 
any  theory  that  does  so  has  in  this  fact  much  evidence  in 
its  favor. 

It  will  conduce  to  clearness  if  we  limit  our  definitions 
somewhat  more  than  we  have  previously  done,  and  assume 
that  attention  is  the  concomitant  of  the  process  by  which 
the  resistance  is  varied  in  a  brain  center  and  the  impulse 
conducted  through  it.  We  may  omit  for  the  time  the  con- 
sideration of  the  physiological  concomitant  in  directing 
the  impulse  from  one  brain  center  to  another.  Positive 
attention  is  the  concomitant  of  the  process  by  which  the 
resistance  to  transmission  in  the  brain  center  is  dimin- 
ished, and  negative  attention  is  the  concomitant  of  the 
process  by  which  the  resistance  in  the  brain  center  is  in- 
creased. In  positive  attention  the  dendrites  are  shifted 
closer  together,  and  in  negative  attention  they  are  shifted 
farther  apart. 

It  will  be  seen  that  negative  attention  increases  feeling. 
That  many  of  our  ills,  discomforts,  and  diseases  are  imag- 
inary, or  manifestations  of  hysteresis  is  well  known,  and 
known  best  by  those  who  have  studied  the  matter  the  most. 
We  can  conjure  up  a  pain  or  an  ache  in  almost  any  part  of 
the  body  at  any  time.  A  steady  examination  of  the  end  of 
the  finger  for  a  minute  or  two  will  engender  a  decidedly 
peculiar  feeling  in  that  part,  and  if  it  is  continued  long 
enough,  doubtless  pathological  symptoms  will  appear.  If 
we  look  at  a  single  letter  or  figure  on  the  page  of  a  book 
for  a  few  minutes,  with  the  proper  kind  of  attention,  we 


RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  ATTENTION        203 

shall  come  to  the  feeling  that  this  is  the  most  peculiar  let- 
ter or  figure  that  was  ever  printed.  So  not  only  in  our 
physical  sensations,  but  in  our  social  relations  and  mental 
operations  negative  attention  is  the  occasion  for  most  of 
our  discomforts.  Jealousy,  suspicion,  envy,  malice,  nearly 
all  of  the  malevolent  feelings  are  accompanied  by  a  process 
of  negative  attention.  The  general  name  for  this  whole 
class  of  symptoms  that  verge  on  the  pathological  is  worry. 
Worry  may  be  defined  as  the  feeling  accompanying  the 
process  of  continued  negative  attention. 

Perhaps  one-half  of  all  the  discomforts  that  we  endure 
arise  from  this  condition.  We  give  negative  attention, 
increase  resistance  in  the  brain  center  through  which  tJie 
nervous  impulse  is  passing,  use  up  energy  in  overcoming 
resistance,  and  while  we  experience  a  painful  feeling,  we 
diminish  the  amount  of  intellectual  work  that  we  are 
capable  of  doing. 

On  the  other  hand,  positive  attention  decreases  the  re- 
sistance in  the  brain  center  and  is  capable  of  decreasing 
feeling.  If  the  source  of  our  discomfort  is  a  previous 
condition  of  negative  attention  or  if  in  common  phrase 
our  disease  is  imaginary,  or  caused  by  worry,  this  is  all 
that  is  needed  to  cure  the  disease.  Since  perhaps  half 
of  all  of  our  discomforts  are  of  this  kind,  the  various 
faith  cures  and  Christian  Science  and  miracle  shrines  do 
work  that  goes  far  to  redeem  them  from  the  charge  of 
charlatanry.  Every  real  faith  cure,  or  mind  cure,  or  Chris- 
tian Science  healing,  finds  its  ready  explanation  in  the 
phenomena  of  attention.  It  is  a  simple  explanation,  and 
is  scarcely  sufficient  to  justify  the  founding  of  a  new  re- 
ligion, nor  to  render  less  worthy  of  condemnation  the  vari- 
ous mummeries  and  mysteries  that  are  adjudged  to  be 
necessary  in  the  operations  of  saints  relics  and  healing 
shrines.  The  various  paraphernalia  and  mysteries  and 
ceremonies  and  incantations  connected  with  the  modus 
operandi  of  all  forms  of  healing  of  this  kind  are  merely 


204  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

devices  by  means  of  which  the  proper  kind  of  attention  may 
be  induced.  Not  one  of  them  can  have  any  effect  except  as 
it  induces  the  proper  kind  of  attention,  and  one  is  just  as 
effective  as  the  other  when,  by  its  means,  the  proper  kind  of 
attention  is  secured.  What  is  commonly  designated  as 
faith  healing,  prayer  cure,  magnetic  healing,  and  Christian 
Science  has  been  described  as  really  effective  only  when 
applied  to  the  diseases  and  discomforts  arising  from  the 
process  of  negative  attention.  Equally  successful  is  the 
treatment  of  a  regular  physician  when  his  medicines 
produce  their  greatest  effect,  as  they  frequently  do,  by  in- 
ducing the  proper  kind  of  attention  in  the  patient.  In  such 
cases,  bread  pills  are  as  effective  as  any  other,  and  fre- 
quently to  be  preferred. 

But  there  are  pathological  cases  involving  a  lesion  of 
the  tissues,  toxic  products  arising  from  bacterial  growth, 
destruction  of  functional  activities  or  some  other  cause, 
which,  no  matter  how  it  may  be  directed,  attention  will  not 
and  cannot  heal.  Attention  will  have  no  effect  upon  the 
growth  of  the  germs  of  diphtheria,  nor  consumption,  and 
a  broken  leg  will  not  respond  to  prayer.  And  yet,  even  in 
these  cases,  when  the  lesion  is  obscure,  the  painful  feeling 
may  be  caused  to  disappear  even  from  the  most  violent, 
dangerous  and  painful  of  them  by  a  process  of  attention. 
Attention  of  the  proper  kind  may  actually  decrease  the 
resistance  in  the  brain  center  until  all  feeling  of  discom- 
fort disappears.  Then  the  danger  is  that  the  patient  re- 
ports perfect  faith  healing  and  may  die  the  next  day. 
Attention  may  cause  the  pain  to  disappear,  but  the  re- 
moval of  the  pain  is  not  a  cure  of  the  disease.  Usually, 
however,  the  faith  healers  apply  no  other  criterion  to  test 
whether  the  disease  is  cured  or  not,  except  the  elimination 
of  pain. 

Pain  is,  as  we  have  seen,  a  beneficial  device  by  means  of 
which  we  are  informed  of  a  dangerous  pathological  con- 
dition that  may  threaten  the  life  and  safety  of  the  indi- 


RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  ATTENTION        205 

vidual.  To  destroy  the  pain,  either  by  diminishing  the 
amount  of  nervous  energy  by  means  of  opiates,  or  by  faith 
working  through  attention,  is  not  to  heal  the  disease,  but 
to  remove  the  test  that  we  might  apply  to  determine  its 
presence,  condition  or  improvement.  In  such  a  case,  faith 
cure  is  on  a  par  with  opium.  It  is  like  covering  the  crack 
in  a  broken  beam  with  paint. 

We  have  thus  made  clear  the  relation  between  feeling 
and  attention,  and  we  have  seen  how  exceedingly  intimate 
is  their  connection.  We  have  been  able  to  discriminate 
the  two  processes  clearly  by  means  of  their  physiological 
concomitants  whose  determination  is  of  necessity  alto- 
gether hypothetical.  However,  since  the  hypothesis  has 
shown  itself  able  to  explain  all  the  phenomena  of  attention, 
we  may  assume  that  it  is  true  until  we  find  facts  that  con- 
tradict it.  The  utility  of  the  hypothesis  does  not  depend 
upon  the  possibility  of  demonstrating  its  truth. 

The  relation  between  intellect  and  feeling  is  a  reciprocal 
one.  With  a  given  amount  of  nervous  energy  the  more 
feeling  the  less  intellectual  work  is  done,  and  the  less  feel- 
ing the  more  intellectual  work  may  be  done.  But  atten- 
tion is  a  double  process,  so  we  shall  expect  to  find  that  the 
law  of  the  relation  between  attention  and  the  intellectual 
process  will  partake  of  this  duplex  character. 

If  we  consider  positive  attention,  the  relation  is  easily 
understood.  Positive  attention  diminishes  feeling,  and 
renders  the  amount  of  work  that  can  be  done  greater  than 
if  the  attention  is  not  so  successful.  Positive  attention 
may  heighten  perception  or  sensation  to  a  very  great 
amount.  We  can  hear  a  clock  tick  at  a  distance  many 
times  as  great  when  we  are  attending  as  when  we  are  not 
attending.  When  we  know  what  to  look  for,  we  can  see 
or  discover  the  lost  thing  with  a  much  greater  facility 
than  when  we  do  not  know  exactly  what  it  is.  Hence  it 
is  that  the  problem  of  apperception  resolves  itself  largely 
into  a  problem  of  attention. 


206  THE   PEELINGS   OF    MAN 

The  process  by  which  the  perception  is  heightened  by 
attention  seems  to  be  as  follows ;  When  I  am  listening  for 
the  clock  to  tick,  I  am  already  imagining  how  the  tick  of 
the  clock  will  sound.  I  am  reproducing  the  ticking  sound 
that  I  have  heard  before,  and  am  already  sending  a  cen- 
trally initiated  impulse  through  the  clock-ticking  center 
by  a  process  of  attention.  It  requires  a  much  smaller 
peripherally  initiated  impulse  to  pass  through  the  clock- 
ticking  center  when  the  dendrites  are  all  set  by  the  process 
of  attention,  thus  facilitating  the  transmission,  than  if  the 
same  setting  had  not  occurred.  Hence  I  can  hear  the  clock 
ticking  much  farther  away,  or  a  much  fainter  tick  than  if 
I  am  not  attending.  The  slight  peripherally  initiated 
impulse  travels  the  nervous  arc,  and  this  constitutes  the 
difference  between  the  percept  and  the  idea. 

In  the  same  way  we  may  explain  the  seeing  of  what  we 
expect  to  see.  The  centrally  initiated  impulse  is  already 
traversing  the  brain  center  that  corresponds  to  that  object, 
and  a  very  slight  peripherally  initiated  impulse  will  pass 
readily  over  it.  The  dendrites  are  all  set  so  as  to  facilitate 
the  passage,  by  the  process  of  attention. 

The  perception  of  the  slight  changes  in  the  tension  of 
the  muscles  by  means  of  which  blindfolded  persons  find 
articles  hidden  by  others,  the  so-called  muscle  reading, 
together  with  other  mystifying  performances  find  their 
explanation  in  the  very  much  heightened  perception  result- 
ing from  perfect  attention.  Even  the  phenomena  of  hypno- 
tism is  best  explained  by  the  supposition  that  it  is  a  process 
of  perfect  attention. 

This  is  the  explanation  given  of  it  by  Braid,  its  founder, 
and  although  the  explanation  has  been  much  criticised,  it 
has  not  been  examined  in  the  light  of  this  dendritic  move- 
ment theory,  and  no  other  explanation  has  been  made  that 
is  anything  like  so  satisfactory. 

Negative  attention  has  just  the  opposite  effect.  We  can- 
not see  what  we  do  not  expect  to  see.   Every  observer  picks 


RELATION   OF   PEELING   TO  ATTENTION  207 

out  that  to  which  he  attends  and  is  unable  to  perceive  the 
rest.  The  puzzle  in  a  puzzle  picture  arises  from  the  fact 
that  we  do  not  know  exactly  what  to  look  for,  are  unable 
to  attend  to  it,  do  not  set  the  dendrites,  so  it  is  difficult  to 
see  that  which  the  picture  presents.  This  is  the  explana- 
tion of  all  that  passes  under  the  name  of  apperception,  and 
it  is  not  a  new  nor  unheard  of  process. 

Consciousness  and  feeling  are  directly  related.  Hence 
we  shall  expect  to  find  that  the  process  of  attention  which 
increases  feeling  will  increase  consciousness,  and  that 
which  decreases  feeling  will  decrease  consciousness.  Posi- 
tive attention  tends  to  decrease  consciousness,  as  will  be 
readily  recognized  by  everyone  who  has  given  very  close 
attention  to  any  matter  for  some  time.  Under  a  process 
of  close  positive  attention,  the  person  finds  that  time  passes 
rapidly.  He  becomes  so  much  absorbed  in  his  work  that 
he  is  almost  unconscious  of  what  he  is  doing.  This  is  one 
of  the  ways  that  we  have  spoken  of  in  Chapter  X  by  which 
consciousness  becomes  diminished.  Attention  may  de- 
crease consciousness  by  confining  the  impulse  to  the  nerv- 
ous arc,  permitting  little  or  none  of  it  to  escape  into  the 
fringing  cells.  Here  we  have  the  explanation  of  the  phe- 
nomena often  adduced  as  evidence  in  favor  of  the  James 
theory  of  feeling.  A  person  who  is  in  danger  escapes  from 
that  danger,  and  only  after  the  escape  does  he  experience 
any  feeling.  At  the  time  of  danger,  his  positive  attention 
processes  are  very  successful  in  preventing  the  radiation 
of  the  nervous  impulse,  by  diminishing  the  resistance  in 
the  brain  center.  He  escapes  from  the  danger  by  what 
seems  a  miracle.  His  actions  are  so  perfectly  adjusted  to 
the  exigencies  of  the  case  that  they  are  called  instinctive. 
This  is  merely  perfect  attention  directing  the  nervous 
impulse  without  waste,  accomplishing  extraordinary  intel- 
lectual results,  and  diminishing  feeling  and  consciousness. 
Afterward,  when  the  attention  is  diminished  to  the  ordi- 
nary effectiveness,  consciousness  and  feeling  appear  in 


208  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

intense  form.  Even  the  unconsciousness  of  the  hypnotic 
state  seems  to  find  its  interpretation  in  the  lack  of  radia- 
tion occasioned  by  perfect,  or  nearly  perfect  positive  at- 
tention. 

Sometimes,  however,  unconsciousness  is  occasioned  by 
intense  feeling.  A  person  is  said  to  faint  from  excess  of 
emotion.  Here  it  seems  as  if  the  nervous  arc  is  interrupted 
in  its  continuity,  and  the  current  is  broken.  When  the 
current  is  no  longer  passing,  then  none  of  it  can  radiate 
out  into  the  fringing  cells,  and  unconsciousness  results. 
Intense  feeling,  extraordinary  resistance,  great  negative 
attention,  interruption  of  all  current^all  of  these  seem 
to  be  associated  with  each  other.  The  action  of  negative 
attention  in  producing  unconsciousness  is  similar  to  that 
of  chloroform,  which  as  we  have  previously  stated,  is  best 
accounted  for  by  supposing  that  the  action  of  chloroform 
produces  a  retraction  of  the  dendrites  until  they  are  be- 
yond the  point  of  physiological  communication,  the  circuit 
is  broken,  the  nervous  impulse  fails  to  pass,  there  can  be 
no  radiation,  and  unconsciousness  follows. 

It  seems  as  if  we  have  in  these  considerations  an  ex- 
planation of  contradictory  facts.  How  the  process  of 
positive  attention  can  produce  much  or  little  feeling.  How 
both  positive  and  negative  attention  may  bring  about  a 
condition  of  relative  unconsciousness.  The  explanation 
seems  to  be  satisfactory,  and  the  hypothesis  is  accordingly 
helpful. 

The  relation  between  feeling  and  memory  we  have  seen 
to  be  generally  one  of  direct  relation.  That  thing  is  re- 
membered best  which  is  learned  with  feeling,  if  the  feeling 
arises  as  the  result  of  the  transmission  of  the  largest  pos- 
sible amount  of  nervous  energy  through  the  brain  center, 
and  attention  is  the  process  by  which  it  is  directed.  Hence 
it  is  that  attention  rather  than  feeling  is  the  determining 
factor  in  the  process  of  mental  reproduction.  If  atten- 
tion were  absolutely  perfect,  it  seems  as  if  there  might  be 


RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  ATTENTION        209 

a  possibility  of  learning  a  thing  so  that  it  should  never  be 
forgotten. 

Synopsis. 

1 — Attention  is  the  psychological  concomitant  of  the 
process  hy  which  a  nervous  impulse  is  directed  into  and 
through  a  hrain  center.  It  is  the  concomitant  of  the  proc- 
ess hy  which  resistance  in  the  train  center  is  varied, 

2 — Attention  has  two  phases:  positive,  which  is  the  con- 
comitant of  the  process  hy  which  resistance  is  decreased; 
and  negative,  the  concomitant  of  the  process  hy  which 
resistance  is  increased.  Both  phases  are  involved  more  or 
less  in  every  act  of  attention. 

3 — There  are  two  possible  theories:  one,  that  resistance 
is  varied  by  changing  the  conductivity  of  the  synaptic 
membrane;  the  other,  that  resistance  is  varied  by  shifting 
the  dendrites  through  molecular  distances;  toward  each 
other  in  positive  attention,  away  from  each  other  in  nega- 
tive attention.    The  second  theory  is  adopted  in  this  book. 

4 — Positive  attention  may  decrease  feeling,  and  this  is 
the  explanation  of  the  decrease  of  pain  in  faith  cures  and 
mind  cures.  Negative  attention  increases  feeling,  and 
this  is  the  source  of  pain  in  worry,  hysteria,  and  imaginary 
diseases. 


Chapter   XIII. 
THE  RELATION  OF  FEELING   TO  WILL. 

That  there  is  a  phenomenon  of  mental  life  called  will 
which  every  one  recognizes  as  a  constituent  element  in  his 
own  experience,  no  one  will  deny.  That  its  nature  is  very 
complex  and  difficult  to  conceive  in  any  way,  is  equally 
evident.  That  most  of  the  discussions  of  will  have  in- 
volved inconceivable  propositions,  and  have  been  largely 
beside  the  question,  is  quite  as  demonstrable.  The  reason 
for  presenting  the  question  in  its  present  connection  is 
found  in  the  fact  that  there  is  a  recognized  relation  be- 
tween feeling  and  will,  and  that  no  discussion  of  feeling 
can  be  altogether  satisfactory  which  does  not  show  the 
harmony  between  the  theory  of  feeling  and  the  recognized 
phenomena  of  will. 

To  the  older  psychologists,  will  was  a  simple  matter. 
It  was  merely  a  self  determination  of  the  substantial 
entity  and  was  conditioned  by  no  necessary  laws.  The 
self  activity  of  the  mind  and  its  self  determination  was 
will.  The  "Will  determined  itself."  It  was  not  neces- 
sarily determined  by  anything  else.  It  was  a  fundamental 
power  of  the  mind,  and  no  other  explanation  was  neces- 
sary or  possible. 

As  psychology,  such  a  conception  of  will  belongs  in  the 
section  of  the  psychological  museum  that  corresponds  to 
the  cases  containing  the  Great  Auk  and  the  Dodo.  They 
are  immensely  valuable,  veritable  treasure  houses  of  ideas 
that  once  existed,  but  have  failed  to  survive  in  the  strug- 
gle for  existence,  and  have  had  to  resign  their  places  to 
those  conceptions  less  out  of  harmony  with  the  facts  that 
have  been  more  recently  accumulated. 

211 


212  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

But  even  among  the  older  psychologists,  there  were 
those  who  regarded  any  decision  that  was  made  by  the 
will  as  determined  by  the  feelings.  It  was  a  common 
expression  that  feelings  formed  the  will.  By  this  was 
meant  that  the  actions  of  a  person  were  determined  by 
the  will  in  accordance  with  the  feelings.  If  one  kind  of 
feeling  was  experienced,  the  will  acted,  of  its  own  accord, 
in  one  way.  But  if  another  kind  of  feeling  was  expe- 
rienced, the  will  acted  in  another  way,  although,  had  it 
been  so  disposed,  it  might  have  acted  differently.  This 
is  merely  another  statement  of  the  proposition  that  feel- 
ings are  the  motive  powers  and  lead  to  action ;  that  feel- 
ings determine  what  the  action  shall  be,  whether  it  is  of 
a  mental  or  a  physical  character. 

In  opposition  to  this  at  the  present  time,  the  opinion 
is  widely  prevalent  that  it  is  the  intellectual  idea  that 
determines  the  action  and  which  works  itself  out.  This 
is  the  law  of  dynamogenesis,  and  it  seems  to  be  supported 
by  satisfactory  observations. 

Either  position  may  be  defended  by  observations  that 
all  will  acknowledge  to  be  true,  but  this  merely  shows  the 
complexity  of  the  phenomena  grouped  together  as  will, 
and  the  inadequacy  of  the  theory  of  will  as  at  present 
understood.  The  full  complexity  of  the  phenomena  not 
even  yet  has  been  fully  recognized.  All  that  it  is  possible 
for  us  to  do  is  to  point  out  the  complexities,  to  show  how 
observations  apparently  contradictory  may  be  harmon- 
ized, and  to  exhibit  the  phenomena  of  feeling  as  mani- 
fested in  an  operation  of  the  will. 

Will  is  a  double  process,  one  of  whose  elements  is  the 
process  of  attention,  which  has  already  been  discussed; 
but  there  is  a  second  element  that  has  not  been  suflSciently 
considered.  We  can  best  make  it  clear  by  a  resume  of  the 
propositions  that  have  been  advanced  in  previous  chapters. 

In  every  current  there  are  certain  elements  which 
are  necessary  to  constitute  it  a  current.    The  elements 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO   WILL  213 

that  are  common  to  all  currents  will  very  likely  indicate 
the  essential  components,  while  those  characters  which 
are  peculiar  to  the  individual  currents  will  be  left  out  of 
the  number  that  enter  into  the  conception  of  a  current 
in  general. 

In  the  first  place,  we  have  assumed  that  all  the  psy- 
chological processes  that  can  be  discriminated  from  each 
other  have  their  concomitants  in  the  elements  of  a  cur- 
rent. It  will  help  us,  then,  very  much  to  determine  what 
the  essential  elements  of  a  current  are. 

Every  current  must  have  some  kind  of  a  conductor. 
In  the  case  of  a  river  current,  the  river  bed  itself  is  the 
conductor;  in  the  electric  current,  the  conductor  is  usu- 
ally a  wire;  in  the  nervous  current,  the  conductor  is  a 
nervous  arc  which  in  its  simplest  form  consists  of  a 
nerve,  two  ganglion  cells,  and  another  nerve. 

Every  current  must  have  some  kind  of  an  insulator  for 
the  conductor,  or  some  method  by  which  the  current  is 
kept  from  leaving  it.  In  the  case  of  a  river,  the  banks 
serve  the  function  of  an  insulator;  in  the  electric  cur- 
rent, the  insulator  is  a  covering  over  the  wire,  or  it 
may  be  that  the  air  itself  serves  as  the  insulating  ma- 
terial; in  the  case  of  the  nervous  current,  we  have  as- 
sumed that  the  neuroglia,  and  along  the  course  of  the 
nerve,  the  medullary  sheath  serve  the  function  of  the  in- 
sulator. It  will  be  seen,  of  course,  that  neither  the  ner- 
vous conductor  nor  the  insulator  has  any  psychological 
concomitant. 

Every  current  encounters  some  resistance.  In  the  river 
current,  the  resistance  is  the  friction  of  the  water  against 
the  banks,  the  inequalities  in  the  river  bed,  or  obstruc- 
tions that  are  encountered.  The  effect  of  the  resistance 
is  to  warm  the  water  in  the  river.  In  the  electric  current, 
we  call  the  resistance  merely  resistance,  and  we  measure 
it  in  ohms.  The  effect  of  the  resistance  is  to  produce 
heat.    In  a  nervous  current,  the  resistance  has  no  other 


214  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

name.  We  are  unable  to  measure  its  amount,  but  we  de- 
tect it  by  means  of  the  chronoscope,  and  its  psychological 
concomitant  is  feeling. 

Every  current  produces  some  effect  upon  the  bodies 
in  the  space  near  it.  We  may  call  this  space  in  which  it 
produces  such  an  effect,  its  field  of  influence.  In  the  case 
of  the  river  current,  the  field  of  influence  is  indicated  by 
the  water  that  is  drawn  by  capillarity  out  of  the  river 
into  the  soil  along  its  banks.  Also  it  is  shown  by  the  cur- 
rent of  air  that  is  dragged  along  with  the  water  in  contact 
with  its  surface.  In  the  electric  current,  the  field  of  in- 
fluence is  called  the  magnetic  field,  and  it  is  mapped  with 
a  magnetic  needle.  In  the  case  of  the  nervous  current, 
the  field  of  influence  is  the  radiation  of  the  nervous  im- 
pulse out  of  the  brain  center  into  the  fringing  cells,  and 
its  physiological  concomitant  is  consciousness. 

Every  current  is  capable  of  doing  some  work.  In  the 
river,  the  work  may  take  the  form  of  driving  water  wheels, 
and  turning  machinery.  It  is  measured  in  foot  pounds 
or  horse  power.  In  the  electric  current,  the  work  done  is 
the  turning  of  motors  and  driving  machinery.  In  the 
nervous  current,  the  physiological  work  is  the  transmis- 
sion of  a  nervous  impulse  through  a  nervous  arc,  and  its 
psychological  concomitant  is  intellectual  work,  such  as 
solving  problems,  memorizing,  perceiving,  etc. 

Every  current  is  directed  by  changing  the  degree  of 
resistance  to  be  overcome,  making  it  greater  in  one  path 
than  in  another.  In  the  river  current  it  is  directed  by 
dams  and  gates.  In  the  electric  current,  by  switches  and 
shunts.  In  the  nervous  current,  by  the  shifting  of  the 
dendrites,  and  its  psychological  concomitant  is  attention. 

Every  current  must  have  some  kind  of  driving  force. 
In  the  river  current,  this  is  provided  by  the  fall  of  the 
river  or,  in  case  of  water  wheels,  the  force  of  the  water  is 
provided  by  the  difference  in  level  between  the  water 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO   WILL  215 

above  the  dam  and  the  water  below,  which  is  called  the 
head.  In  case  of  the  electric  current,  the  driving  force 
is  called  the  electro-motive  force,  and  is  measured  in  volts. 
In  the  nervous  current,  we  have  no  means  of  measuring 
it,  and  no  name  for  the  force.  The  fact  that  there  is  a 
nervous  current  is  well  recognized,  but  its  driving  force 
has  not  been  considered.  It  is  in  some  way  connected 
with  the  oxidation  of  tissue,  and  after  the  analogy  of  the 
electric  current  I  propose  to  call  this  force  the  nervo- 
motive  force.  The  psychological  concomitant  of  this 
nervo-motive  force,  directed  by  attention,  I  propose  to  de- 
scribe as  will. 

It  will  be  seen  from  this  determination,  that  will  is  a 
double  process,  one  of  whose  elements  is  the  psychological 
concomitant  of  the  nervo-motive  force,  and  the  other  is 
attention,  both  positive  and  negative.  As  we  have  al- 
ready discussed  attention,  it  will  facilitate  matters  if  we 
leave  it  out  of  consideration  for  the  present,  and,  using 
a  brief  expression,  speak  of  will  as  the  concomitant  of 
nervo-motive  force  alone. 

We  have  thus  described  the  elements  of  the  nervous 
current,  and  have  determined  the  psychological  concom- 
itants of  each.  As  we  have  one  word,  current,  to  ex- 
press the  sum  of  all  current  elements,  so  we  need  one  word 
to  express  the  sum  of  all  the  psychological  concomitants. 
The  word  mind  will  not  be  satisfactory,  for  it  has  many 
improper  associations.  The  stream  of  consciousness  is 
unsatisfactory,  for  it  is  based  upon  a  different  concep- 
tion of  consciousness.  Neither  is  the  general  term  con- 
sciousness available  for  our  purpose.  Let  us  coin  a  new 
term  to  fit  the  new  conception,  and  call  the  combination 
of  all  the  psychological  concomitants  of  the  current  ele- 
ments-intellect, feeling,  consciousness,  attention,  will, — 
the  Psychon.  As  this  is  a  new  conception  in  psychology, 
it  is  proper  to  employ  a  new  word  to  express  it.  It  will 
be  found  very  helpful  to  speak  of  the  different  elem^ntsf 


216  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

of  the  psychon,  instead  of  the  different  states  of  conscious- 
ness. 

In  order  to  make  this  determination  of  will  at  all  prob- 
able, we  need  first  to  demonstrate  that  there  is  a  nervo- 
motive  force,  and  second,  we  shall  need  to  present  evi- 
dence in  favor  of  the  assumption  that  this  force  is  the 
concomitant  of  will. 

The  strongest  evidence  of  the  existence  of  the  nervo- 
motive  force  is  the  existence  of  the  current  itself.  By  cur- 
rent, we  mean  the  change  in  successive  molecules  of  the 
nervous  conductor.  No  one  will  deny  the  existence  of 
the  current,  and  no  one  will  believe  that  the  current  will 
flow  and  successive  molecules  change  without  the  mani- 
festation of  some  force.  The  nature  of  the  force  is  be- 
yond our  comprehension.  Whether  it  is  some  form  of 
energy  similar  to  one  already  described  in  text  books  on 
physics,  or  whether  it  is  a  different  force  from  any  there 
recognized,  is  beyond  our  province  to  discuss.  Whether 
it  is  capable  of  being  transformed  into  one  of  the  recog- 
nized forces  and  has  a  quantitative  equivalence  to  them 
is  also  beside  our  present  question.  But  that  there  is  a 
force,  the  fact  of  a  current  abundantly  proves. 

Another  evidence  of  the  existence  of  a  nervo-motive 
force  is  found  in  the  fact  that  brain  tissue  is  oxidized  and 
the  resulting  products  have  a  lower  degree  of  complexity 
than  those  which  they  replace.  Whenever  substances 
undergo  a  chemical  change  resulting  in  the  production 
of  substances  of  a  lower  degree  of  complexity,  energy  is 
liberated.  The  change  is  a  katabolic  change,  and  results 
in  the  liberation  of  energy. 

In  the  next  place,  we  find  that  all  mental  processes 
stop  almost  instantly  when  the  conditions  for  this  chemical 
action  in  the  brain  are  not  present.  Pressure  on  the 
carotid  arteries  results  in  unconsciousness  in  thirty  sec- 
onds. Hemorrhage  induces  fainting.  The  brain  weighs 
only  about  one-fiftieth  as  much  as  the  body,  but  it  draws 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO   WILL  217 

usually  from  one-twelfth  to  one-eighth  of  all  the  blood 
sent  out  from  the  heart. 

It  is  not  necessary,  however,  to  stop  the  supply  of  blood 
in  order  to  stop  mental  action.  All  that  is  necessary  is 
to  shut  off  the  supply  of  oxygen  to  the  brain,  and  this  may 
be  done  by  cutting  off  the  supply  of  oxygen  to  the  blood. 
The  blood  may  continue  to  flow,  but  if  the  person  is  in  an 
atmosphere  that  contains  no  oxygen  the  same  results 
follow  as  if  the  blood  supply  were  cut  off.  More  than  this, 
we  find  that  when  severe  mental  work  is  accomplished, 
there  is  a  greater  amount  of  katabolic  substances  pro- 
duced in  the  brain  and  excreted  from  the  system. 

The  next  question  is,  why  do  we  determine  this  energy 
liberated  in  the  brain  to  be  the  concomitant  of  will?  The 
reason  is  not  far  to  seek.  The  evidence  is  found  in  the 
facts  of  concomitant  variation  between  the  nervo-motive 
force  and  the  psychological  phenomena  of  will.  When  we 
are  able  to  make  proper  allowance  for  all  modifications 
of  the  nervous  current  that  arise  from  the  variations  in 
resistance,  character,  and  modifications  of  brain  tissue, 
and  of  the  substance  of  the  nervous  arc,  for  the  effect  of 
habit,  and  the  variations  in  attention,  we  shall  always 
find  that  the  strength  of  will  varies  directly  as  the  amount 
of  nervous  energy  liberated.  The  facts  that  constitute 
this  evidence  may  be  grouped  under  three  heads. 

The  first  group  of  facts  are  those  derived  from  an  ex- 
amination of  pathological  conditions  of  will.  We  find  in 
every  case  of  weakened  will  that  the  bodily  conditions 
are  such  as  to  diminish  the  amount  of  tissue  oxidized  in 
the  brain.  Some  of  these  pathological  conditions  are 
cases  of  habitual  users  of  alcohol,  morphine,  opium,  co- 
caine. In  every  case,  the  formation  of  a  habit  of  this 
kind  results  in  weakened  will.  Why  does  not  the  drunk- 
ard of  morphine-eater  or  cocaine  fiend  discontinue  the 
habit  ?  Every  one  not  so  afflicted  is  sure  that  under  simi- 
lar conditions  he  could  quit,  so  why  does  not  the  drunk- 


218  THE  FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

ard?  The  drunkard  could  if  he  had  the  present  ability 
to  generate  energy  that  the  normal  person  has,  but  he 
does  not  have  it  and  his  will  is  weak,  so  the  breaking  of 
the  habit  is  a  chemical  impossibility  with  him.  Indul- 
gence in  a  narcotic  habit  always  results  in  lessened  oxida- 
tion of  tissue  in  the  brain.  The  entire  range  of  metabolic 
processes  in  the  body  is  circumscribed,  and  this  can 
usually  be  recognized  in  the  paler  complexion,  ascribed  to 
the  lessened  number  of  blood  corpuscles  which  are  the 
carries  of  oxygen ;  in  the  loss  of  appetite ;  in  the  sluggish- 
ness of  the  circulation ;  in  fact,  in  almost  all  the  processes 
that  we  have  found  to  be  essential  to  the  liberation  of 
nervous  energy. 

We  have  a  classical  example  of  this  weakening  of  the 
will  from  the  use  of  opium  in  De  Quincey.  He  tells  us 
that  when  he  was  addicted  to  opium,  letters  would  lie 
for  months  on  his  table  unanswered.  He  knew  that 
they  should  be  answered,  knew  exactly  what  to  say  in 
answer,  but  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  do  it.  His  will 
was  weak.  Many  of  us  have  unanswered  letters,  or  some- 
thing else  that  corresponds  to  it,  and  the  reason  is  the 
same.  Our  wills  are  temporarily  weak,  not  perhaps  from 
indulgence  in  opium,  but  from  other  causes.  In  such 
a  case,  when  we  feel  disinclined  to  work  and  to  do  what 
we  ought  to  do,  the  only  proper  thing  is  to  do  something 
that  will  enable  us  to  liberate  more  nervous  energy.  We 
need  to  take  a  vigorous  walk,  to  start  the  blood  to  mov- 
ing more  rapidly  to  the  brain,  to  breathe  more  fresh  air 
so  as  to  oxygenate  the  blood. 

In  this  way,  by  liberating  more  nervous  energy,  we 
strengthen  the  will.  The  proper  treatment  of  a  narcotic 
habit  is  indicated  by  its  effect.  The  treatment  is  to  do 
anything  that  will  cause  more  nervous  energy  to  be  lib- 
erated. Good  food,  plenty  of  exercise  to  quicken  the  cir- 
culation but  not  enough  to  induce  fatigue,  pure  air,  and 
it  may  be  necessary,  although  it  may  not,  to  discontinue 


RELATION  OP  FEELING  TO  WILL  219 

the  drug  immediately.  Anything  that  will  cause  more 
energy  to  be  liberated  will  strengthen  the  will.  Some 
cases  of  weakened  will  do  not  arise  from  a  narcotic  habit. 
Some  diseases  have  for  their  principal  symptom  a  weak- 
ness of  will.  Ribot,  in  his  Diseases  of  the  Will,  gives  many 
examples. 

When  one  is  fasting  for  several  days,  the  most  notice- 
able and  persistent  psychological  symptom  is  a  weakness 
of  will.  Nothing  that  is  not  done  by  the  force  of  habit, 
and  this  indicates  little  resistance,  can  be  undertaken. 
This  fact  of  little  resistance  which  can  arise  only  from 
the  small  amount  of  nervous  energy  liberated,  accounts 
for  the  fact  also,  that  not  only  the  painful  feeling  of  hun- 
ger almost  disappears  after  the  third  day,  but  all  other 
sensations  are  diminished  in  intensity.  Notes  of  the  psy- 
chological condition  of  a  man  completely  abstaining  from 
food  for  seven  days  continually  emphasize  the  fact  of 
weakness  of  will.  No  other  condition  of  a  pathological 
nature  was  present,  but  weakness  of  will  was  a  most 
pronounced  psychological  manifestation.  When  food  is 
lacking  to  repair  the  waste  of  tissue,  oxidation  cannot  pro- 
ceed with  its  usual  rapidity,  and  less  energy  is  generated. 

Fernald  presented  to  the  Psychological  Association  in 
1911,  what  he  described  as  a  "Kinetic  Will  Test."  It  was 
a  device  by  which  a  person  was  induced  to  stand  as  long 
as  he  could  without  letting  his  heels  touch  the  floor.  By 
the  device  employed,  the  limit  of  mental  persistence  was 
reached  before  the  limit  of  muscular  resistance  was  en- 
countered, and  the  time  that  a  person  could  stand  in  this 
position  was  taken  as  a  measure  of  the  strength  of  will. 
This  method  of  measuring  the  will  conforms  exactly  to  the 
hypothesis  advanced  in  this  chapter,  and  the  name 
"kinetic  will  test"  is  thoroughly  appropriate;  although 
the  name  of  the  test,  perhaps  by  the  advice  of  some  per- 
sons who  would  not  be  in  accord  with  the  present  hypo- 
thesis, has  been  changed  to  "an  achievement  capacity 


220  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

test,"  which  is  a  sufficiently  meaningless  and  vapid  name 
to  satisfy  the  least  radical. 

Another  line  of  evidence  is  derived  from  an  examina- 
tion of  the  intensity  of  sensation  in  cases  of  weakened 
will.  We  find  that  whenever  there  is  a  clear  case  of 
weakened  will  the  senses  are  not  so  acute  nor  the  sensa- 
tions so  vivid  as  when  the  will  is  not  weakened.  In  meas- 
uring the  acuteness  of  the  sense  of  touch,  the  dividers 
must  be  spread  farther  apart  in  order  that  they  shall 
be  perceived  as  two  points  than  is  the  case  with  the  same 
person  at  a  time  when  his  will  is  strong.  The  person 
with  a  weakened  will  cannot  detect  so  small  differences 
in  light  nor  color.  He  cannot  detect  so  faint  sounds,  nor 
are  any  of  his  senses  so  acute. 

We  know  that  a  sensation  is  accompanied  by  an  impulse 
peripherally  initiated  of  a  considerable  strength.  Periph- 
erally initiated  impulses  which  accompany  sensations 
are  always  strong,  and  it  is  by  means  of  this  fact  that  we 
are  enabled  to  distinguish  a  percept  from  an  idea.  So  we 
shall  find  that  if  the  amount  of  nervous  energy  available 
for  psychological  processes  at  any  time  is  less  than  the 
usual  amount,  the  impulses  originating  in  the  sense  or- 
gans will  be  less  than  they  usually  are,  and  that  we  shall 
be  unable  to  experience  sensations  of  the  ordinary  degree 
of  intensity.  The  argument  is  this:  Intensity  of  sensa- 
tion depends  upon  the  quantity  of  nervous  energy  which 
is  manifested  by  the  nervous  impulse.  The  weakened  will 
is  always  accompanied  by  a  diminished  intensity  of  sen- 
sation. The  conclusion  is  that  the  weakened  will  is  the 
concomitant  of  the  diminished  amount  of  nervous  energy, 
or  nervo-motive  force. 

It  is  now  necessary  to  consider  the  relation  between 
attention  and  the  will.  Many  writers  on  psychology 
assert  that  there  is  no  difference  between  them,  and  that 
a  thing  is  willed  merely  by  a  process  of  attention.  That 
attention  is  an  act  of  the  will,  and  willing  to  do  anything 


RELATION   OF   FEELING  TO   WILL  221 

means  attending  to  that  thing.  Let  us  try  to  make  the 
relation  clear. 

The  nervous  energy  that  has  been  generated  by  the 
oxidation  of  tissue  must  be  gathered  up  and  driven 
through  a  brain  center.  It  is  liberated,  probably,  in 
all  of  the  developed  brain  cells.  This  is  the  concession 
made  to  those  writers  who  insist  that  the  whole  brain  is 
involved  in  all  mental  processes,  and  that  the  doctrine  of 
localization  of  function  is,  if  not  a  gross  error,  at  least 
very  misleading.  We  may  allow  that  every  portion  of 
the  brain  does  participate,  in  general,  in  every  mental 
process,  by  furnishing  the  nervous  energy  which  must  be 
gathered  up  and  driven  through  a  brain  center. 

It  is  like  the  diffused  electricity  generated  on  the  plates 
of  a  battery.  The  gathering  up  of  the  nervous  energy 
and  directing  it  through  the  brain  center  is  the  work  of 
the  concomitant  of  attention,  thus  making  of  it  one  of 
the  two  parts  of  the  double  process  of  will.  The  nervous 
energy  liberated  may  fail  to  be  gathered  up  and  driven 
through  the  brain  center  when  the  effect  is  as  bad  as  if 
it  had  not  been  liberated  at  all.  This  sufficiently  explains 
the  facts  that  have  led  persons  to  assert  that  attention 
is  will.  Attention  alone  is  not  will,  but  no  act  of  the  will 
can  occur  without  attention.  Voluntary  attention  is  one 
of  the  phases  of  will. 

This  determination  of  will  also  involves  an  explanation 
of  the  phenomena  that  have  led  many  persons  to  assert 
that  feelings  form  the  will;  without  feeling  there  can  be 
no  will ;  and  tljat  feelings  are  the  motive  powers. 

Our  previous  study  has  shown  us  that  the  resistance 
which  is  the  concomitant  of  feeling  is  determined  by 
two  factors,  each  varying  independently,  and  producing 
the  resistance  as  the  resultant.  The  first  of  these  factors 
is  the  strength  of  the  current,  or  nervo-motive  force;  sec- 
ond, the  nature  of  the  arc  itself,  which  may  be  modified 
by  habit,  attention  and  pathological  conditions.     In  the 


222  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

production  of  some  feelings,  one  of  these  factors  will  be 
the  principal  determinant,  and  in  the  other  classes  of  feel- 
ing, another.  Hence  we  shall  discover  that  the  most  con- 
tradictory phenomena  find  their  proper  explanation  in 
the  independent  variability  of  these  two  factors. 

If  we  limit  the  study  of  the  will  to  the  single  element 
of  nervo-motive  force,  we  shall  be  able  to  discover  the  ex- 
planation of  the  phenomena  that  lead  to  the  belief  that 
feelings  form  the  will.  If  we  suppose  the  other  factor 
constant,  the  feelings  will  vary  with  the  nervo-motive 
force.  The  person  who  manifests  a  strong  will,  then,  will 
be  the  person  who  experiences  much  feeling.  When  the 
will  is  weak,  little  feeling  will  be  manifested.  Attention 
and  the  nature  of  the  conductor  remaining  the  same,  the 
strength  of  will  may  be  reckoned  in  terms  of  feeling; 
much  feeling,  strong  will ;  weak  feeling,  little  will. 

As  we  have  previously  seen,  the  person  who  is  capable 
of  generating  little  nervo-motive  force  is  not  likely  to  ex- 
perience intense  feeling.  The  intoxicated  person  does  not 
experience  very  much  feeling,  and  does  not  have  very 
much  will.  He  is  easily  induced  to  do  things  at  the 
solicitation  of  others,  and  experiences  none  of  the  feelings 
of  shame  or  remorse  that  he  would  if  he  were  not  intoxi- 
cated. The  victim  of  a  narcotic  habit,  while  under  the 
influence  of  the  drug,  is  relieved  of  all  his  painful  feeling, 
mental  and  physical.  The  vividness  of  his  feelings  and 
his  strength  of  will  disappear  at  the  same  time.  An  in- 
toxicated man  is  not  unaware  of  what  he  is  doing,  but  his 
feelings  are  so  weak  that  he  does  not  care. 

The  same  thing  is  true  of  a  very  sick  person.  A  per- 
son who  is  approaching  the  point  of  death,  is  not  suffer- 
ing very  much,  either  physically  of  mentally.  He  has 
no  mental  or  physical  feelings  of  any  great  strength  and 
vividness,  and  does  not  will  to  live.  The  persons  who  are 
watching  at  his  bedside  are  probably  enduring  more 
anguish  of  spirit  than  is  the  dying  man  himself,  for  he  has 


RELATION  OP  FEELING  TO  WILL  223 

passed  the  point  where  he  is  able  to  will  or  to  experience 
feeling.  The  amount  of  nervous  energy  that  he  is  capable 
of  generating  is  not  great  enough  to  encounter  much  re- 
sistance in  any  part  of  the  brain. 

Strength  of  will  and  vividness  of  feeling  are  asso- 
ciated with  each  other,  although  not  in  a  causal  way. 
The  feelings  are  not  the  cause  of  the  will,  nor  is  the  will 
the  cause  of  the  feelings;  but  both  feelings  and  will  are 
the  concomitants  of  the  same  process,  the  liberation  of 
a  large  amount  of  nervous  energy,  which  encounters  re- 
sistance in  passing  through  a  nervous  arc. 

The  strength  of  will  is  generally  judged  by  means  of 
the  amount  of  activity  that  the  person  is  capable  of  ex- 
hibiting. The  person  who  generates  the  largest  amount  of 
nervo-motive  force  is  the  person  who,  other  things  being 
the  same,  will  have  the  largest  amount  of  energy  to  expend 
in  activity,  and  also  will  be  the  one  to  manifest  the 
greatest  amount  of  feeling.  Hence  we  have  the  condition 
that  corresponds  to  the  direct  relation  between  feeling 
and  will. 

But  it  appears  that  under  certain  conditions  when  we 
are  least  capable  of  manifesting  the  activity  that  is  indi- 
cative of  will,  we  experience  the  greatest  amount  of  feel- 
ing. When  we  are  fatigued  or  sick,  and  are  incapable  of 
generating  energy  in  so  great  quantities  as  usual,  we  seem 
to  experience  more  than  the  ordinary  amount  of  feeling. 
Circumstances  that  ordinarily  would  not  occasion  anxiety 
or  worry,  annoy  us  greatly.  We  are  unable  to  endure  th^ 
same  amount  of  physical  pain,  and  anger  is  more  easily 
aroused  than  before.  Anger,  worry,  physical  and  mental 
pain  often  seem  to  be  excessive  in  a  situation  when  we  are 
incapable  of  generating  energy  in  quantity,  and  when  we 
recognize  our  condition  as  that  of  weakened  will. 

Evidently  this  situation  is  directly  contrary  to  the 
theory  that  feelings  form  the  will,  or  that  feelings  and 
will  vary  directly  with  each  other.    The  explanation  of 


224  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

the  discrepancy  and  the  difference  between  this  series  of 
phenomena  and  the  preceding  will  be  found  in  the  effect 
of  attention  in  the  production  of  feelings.  Whatever 
the  basis  of  the  physical  nervous  concomitant  of  atten- 
tion may  be,  it  is  evidently  something  that  is  fatiguing 
and  demands  the  expenditure  of  nervous  energy.  One 
of  the  first  indications  of  the  failure  of  nervous  supply 
is  the  inability  to  fix  the  attention  steadily  upon  the 
matter  in  hand.  Hence  it  is  that  when  there  is  a  dimin- 
ished amount  of  nervous  force,  the  failure  of  attention 
may  be  sufficient  to  increase  resistance,  and  feeling  will 
increase.  It  is  corroborative  of  this  that,  in  such  cases, 
feeling  is  increased  only  in  the  processes  that  are  unusual 
and  out  of  the  ordinary  routine.  So  long  as  nothing  oc- 
curs to  disturb  our  equanimity  there  is  no  manifestation 
of  increased  feeling;  but  when  an  unusual,  non-habitual 
situation  arises,  and  an  effort  of  attention  is  needed  to 
prevent  the  increase  of  feeling  up  to  the  painful  point, 
then  we  fail  and  the  feeling  is  intensified. 

It  remains  for  us  to  consider  will  in  its  relation  to 
feeling  as  determined  by  the  nature  of  the  conducting 
material,  as  it  is  modified  by  habit  or  pathological  condi- 
tions. We  can  say  but  little  concerning  the  relation  of 
will  to  feeling  as  thus  determined,  except  to  recognize 
that  this  factor  may  completely  conceal  the  operation  of 
attention  and  the  strength  of  the  current.  We  can  estab- 
lish no  law  except  that,  with  a  given  amount  of  nervo- 
motive  force  and  a  constant  capacity  for  attention,  the 
modification  of  the  conductor  by  habit  will  tend  to  dimin- 
ish resistance  and  its  concomitant  feeling.  The  law  that 
expresses  the  relation  between  feeling  and  will,  when 
stated  in  terms  of  the  other  factor,  will  need  modification 
when  we  take  this  second  factor  into  account. 

Pathological  conditions  usually  tend  to  increase  re- 
sistance and  feeling,  with  a  given  amount  of  nervous 
energy.    But  it  apears  that  there  are  pathological  con- 


RELATION   OP   FEELING   TO   WILL  225 

ditions  in  which  reaction  time  is  diminished,  and  we 
might  draw  the  conclusion  that  resistance  is  diminished 
in  corresponding  amount.  Such  pathological  conditions 
are  those  usually  associated  with  inflammation  of  the 
nervous  tissue  of  the  brain  or  nerves  and  when  such  dis- 
turbance becomes  very  great,  the  corresponding  mental 
condition  is  acute  mania  or  delirium.  It  would  seem  that 
the  resistance  itself  is  not  diminished,  but  rather  in- 
creased, and  the  feeling  is  very  great,  but  the  amount  of 
nervous  energy  generated  is  in  excess  and  the  mechanism 
of  attention  is  thrown  out  of  order. 

The  phenomena  of  feeling  in  its  relation  to  the  intel- 
lectual process  has  already  been  described.  But  it  re- 
mains to  consider  that  relation  in  the  light  of  our  de- 
termination of  the  concomitant  of  will.  The  larger  the 
quantity  of  nervous  energy  that  is  transmitted  through  a 
nervous  arc,  the  greater  will  be  the  amount  of  intellectual 
work  accomplished.  Hence  it  will  be  seen  that  there  is 
a  direct  relation  between  will  and  intellectual  work.  An 
action  is  determined  by  the  clearness  with  which  it  is 
perceived  before  the  action  is  accomplished.  This  fact 
is  sometimes  well  stated  by  calling  the  idea  of  an  action 
the  motive.  The  clearer  the  idea  of  the  action,  the  more 
certain  the  action  is  to  follow.  If  a  large  amount  of 
nervous  energy  is  already  traversing  a  nervous  arc,  the 
dendritic  movements  are  already  made  that  direct  it 
through,  and  the  additional  nerve  force  finds  its  way 
easily  over  the  same  path. 

So  we  find,  as  a  general  rule,  subject  to  modification 
by  other  circumstances,  that  the  person  with  great  intel- 
lectual power  is  a  person  of  strong  will.  As  the  will  is 
weakened,  the  intellectual  ability  is  diminished.  The 
modifications  to  which  the  law  is  subject  are  those  aris- 
ing from  the  fact  that  the  relation  between  intellect  and 
feeling  is  a  reciprocal  one.  We  have  just  described  feel- 
ing and  will,  in  one  aspect  of  the  case,  directly  related, 


226  THE   FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

and  feeling  and  the  intellectual  process  as  reciprocally 
related.  Hence  we  have  a  modification  of  the  law  to  in- 
clude the  effect  of  feeling,  in  so  far  as  the  feeling  arises 
from  the  increase  in  the  strength  of  will.  This  modifica- 
tion is  one  whose  effect  is  included  in  the  discussion  of  the 
apparent  direct  relation  between  intellect  and  feeling  on 
page  49. 

Synopsis. 

1 — The  essential  elements  of  a  current  are  the  con- 
ductor,  insulator^  work  done,  resistance,  field  of  influence, 
methods  of  directing  the  current,  and  driving  force. 

2 — Each  of  these  elements  of  the  nervous  current,  ex- 
cept the  first  two,  has  its  psychological  concomitant.  All 
the  psychological  concomitants  taken  together  may  he 
called  the  psychon. 

3 — Will  is  the  concomitant  of  the  driving  force  of  a 
nervous  current,  plus  attention,  which  directs  the  force. 

4 — That  there  is  a  driving  force,  or  nervo-motive  force, 
is  shown  ty  the  fact  that  there  is  a  current,  and  that  the 
metabolic  processes  result  in  products  of  a  lower  degree 
of  complexity. 

5 — That  the  will  is  the  concomitant  of  nervo-motive 
force  is  shown  by  the  weakened  will  in  cases  of  narcotic 
habit,  by  pathological  cases  of  weakened  will,  and  by  the 
fact  that  whenever  the  will  is  weaker  than  usual,  the  sen- 
sations are  diminished  in  intensity. 

6 — Feeling  and  will  are  directly  related  to  each  other 
if  the  resistance  arises  from  an  increased  amount  of  ner- 
vous energy;  they  are  reciprocally  related  if  the  resist- 
ance is  due  to  a  modification  of  the  nervous  arc  itself. 


Chapter   XIV. 
THE  RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  THE  EGO. 

Many  persons  believe  that  the  presence  of  feeling  of 
any  kind  is  conclusive  evidence  of  an  independent,  self 
active  entity  that  thinks,  feels,  and  wills,  which  is  not  a 
part  nor  a  function  of  the  body,  and  is  not  dependent 
upon  the  body  for  its  existence.  Feeling  is  considered 
to  be  more  satisfactory  evidence  than  any  other  mental 
process,  because  it  is  more  completely  subjective,  and 
testifies  to  the  condition  of  the  self  rather  than  furnishes 
information  of  an  external  object.  This  is  essentially 
the  statement  of  Mr.  H.  R.  Marshall,  who  says :  "Feeling 
is  subjectivity,  and  bears  a  close  relation  to  the  empirical 
ego.  It  is  the  empirical  ego  which  has  not  yet  become 
explicit."  While  this  statement  would  probably  not  be 
satisfactory  to  many  dualists,  it  does,  nevertheless,  em- 
phasize the  importance  of  feeling  in  demonstrating  the 
existence  of  the  ego. 

The  doctrine  of  the  ego  asserts  in  a  general  way  that 
there  is  an  entity,  or  a  substantial  existence  residing  in 
the  body  and  using  the  body  as  its  instrument.  The  body 
is  not  a  part  of  the  ego,  but  serves  merely  as  a  means  by 
which  the  ego  exerts  an  influence  upon  material  things. 
All  mental  processes  are  activities  of  the  ego,  and  are  de- 
termined by  it.  The  growth  of  the  body,  the  organization 
of  the  brain,  the  development  of  the  human  being,  are  all 
dependent  upon  the  ego,  which  exists  independently  of 
them,  employing  the  brain  and  nervous  system  merely  as 
a  means  of  acting  upon  the  material  world.  As  feeling 
does  not  in  itself  act  upon  the  external  world,  it  is  as- 

227 


228  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

sumed  to  be  the  best  evidence  of  the  existence  of  the  ego. 
There  is  little  distinction  made  between  mind,  soul,  ego, 
in  this  system  of  philosophy.  The  three  terms  are  prac- 
tically synonymous. 

Since  feeling  is  commonly  assumed  to  be  evidence  of 
the  existence  of  this  independent,  self  active  entity,  it  is 
necessary  to  examine  the  matter  somewhat  carefully,  to 
see  what  is  the  real  significance  of  feeling  in  the  dis- 
cussion. A  careful  examination  will  show  that  instead 
of  being  an  evidence  of  the  existence  of  an  independent 
ego,  whatever  testimony  feeling  has  to  offer,  is  rather 
opposed  to  the  doctrine. 

The  independent,  self  active  entity  called  the  ego  or 
mind,  is  that  which  is  left  after  all  the  properties  that 
pertain  to  the  body  have  been  taken  away  from  the  com- 
plex unity  of  body  and  mind.  This  is  the  ground  on  which 
the  distinction  is  made  between  mental  feeling  and  physi- 
cal pain.  Physical  pain  belongs  to  the  body,  and  is  not 
an  essential  constituent  of  the  mind.  Mental  pain  be- 
longs to  the  mind  and  not  to  the  body.  If  we  subtract 
all  those  properties  that  belong  especially  to  the  body,  we 
shall  discover  the  essential  nature  of  the  mind. 

Let  us  consider  the  mind  as  existing  apart  from  the 
body,  retaining  only  those  characteristics  which  are  nec- 
essary to  manifest  its  real  nature,  and  dropping  all  those 
feelings  that  have  been  experienced  in  consequence  of  its 
physical  connection.  Physical  pain  cannot  be  considered 
an  essential  constituent  of  it.  Physical  pain  has  its 
function  in  preserving  the  body,  and  by  it  the  mind  could 
take  cognizance  of  injurious  conditions. 

Besides  physical  pain,  there  are  many  egoistic  feelings, 
whose  function  is  to  preserve  the  body  from  destruction 
in  dangerous  situations.  Hunger,  thirst,  nausea  may  be 
considered  as  belonging  to  the  physical  sensations,  but 
the  feeling  of  fear  is  a  mental  pain,  and  its  only  function 
is  the  preservation  of  the  individual.     In  a  state  where 


RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  THE  EGO         229 

the  body  has  already  been  destroyed,  the  retention  of  the 
feeling  of  fear  would  be  meaningless  and  absurd.  Hence 
we  readily  see  that  fear,  and  all  other  self-preserving 
feelings  belong  to  the  physical  organism,  or  to  the  com- 
plex association  of  mind  and  body,  and  not  to  the  con- 
ception of  the  soul  or  the  mind. 

Next,  there  is  a  large  group  of  community  preserving 
feelings  that  have  been  considered  especially  marks  of 
the  soul.  We  readily  think  of  pity,  charity,  and  sym- 
pathy as  examples;  but  equally  so  are  anger,  hate,  and 
revenge.  The  entire  group  of  community  preserving  feel- 
ings has  been  developed  out  of  the  necessity  for  preserv- 
ing the  community  and  preventing  it  from  being  de- 
stroyed. When  all  necessity  for  preserving  the  commu- 
nity has  disappeared,  the  retention  of  these  feelings 
would  be  devoid  of  significance.  Hence  it  is  that  we  can- 
not think  of  them  as  constituting  an  essential  element  in 
the  organization  of  the  mind.  Certainly  revenge,  hate, 
and  anger  would  be  willingly  discarded,  but  they  are  no 
less  feelings  of  this  community  preserving  group  than  are 
the  others  and  if  one  may  be  thought  of  as  necessary,  all 
the  others  must  be. 

The  holiest  feeling  of  the  human  heart  is  mother  love. 
But  mother  love  is  one  of  the  race  perpetuating  feelings, 
developed  out  of  the  necessity  for  preserving  the  race  and 
perpetuating  the  species.  When  the  occasion  for  per- 
petuating the  species  is  past,  and  the  physical  conditions 
that  render  it  possible  are  removed,  there  can  by  no  pos- 
sibility be  a  retention  of  the  feelings  appropriate  to  the 
functions.  Hence  the  entire  group  of  the  race  perpetuat- 
ing feelings  must  be  conceived  as  having  no  function,  ex- 
cept as  they  belong  to  the  physiological  complex  of  the 
body  as  it  manifests  mental  processes.  These  race  per- 
petuating feelings  belong,  not  to  the  essential  nature  of 
the  mind,  but  to  the  physical  connection  of  the  mind  with 
the  body. 


230  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

We  have  now  had  reason  to  discard  from  the  essential 
nature  of  the  mind,  all  the  self  preserving,  community 
preserving,  and  race  perpetuating  feelings,  and  it  would 
appear  that  there  is  very  little  left  that  any  one  would 
care  to  retain.  All  of  these  discarded  feelings  have  their 
reason  for  being,  not  in  the  nature  of  the  mind,  but  the 
physical  processes  of  the  individual  complex.  They  be- 
long to  the  physical  organism  as  a  means  for  its  preserva- 
tion and  perpetuation.  They  give  warning  of  danger,  fur- 
nish a  means  of  multiplying  its  efficiency,  and  insure  its 
reproduction,  multiplication,  and  improvement.  No  one 
of  these  feelings  could  by  any  possibility  have  any  mean- 
ing, or  justification  for  its  existence,  were  it  not  for  the 
physical  organism  through  which  they  manifest  them- 
selves, and  which  they  preserve.  Hence  it  is  that  the 
feelings,  when  properly  understood,  furnish  not  an  evi- 
dence of  the  existence  of  an  independent,  self  active  en- 
tity, but  so  far  as  they  testify  at  all,  they  demonstrate 
the  inadequacy  of  such  a  conception.  Instead  of  uphold- 
ing the  hypothesis  that  they  are  cited  to  prove,  their  testi- 
mony is  rather  against  it.  The  fundamental  principle  of 
psychology,  as  in  all  other  biological  subjects,  is  that 
every  mental  process  is  now  or  has  been  in  the  recent  past, 
of  some  advantage  to  the  individual,  the  race,  or  the 
species.  But  every  advantage  that  is  furnished  by  feeling 
accrues  to  the  physical  complex,  and  not  to  the  mind  con- 
sidered apart  from  it. 

The  problem  of  accounting  for  the  feelings  is  not  so 
simple  a  matter  as  the  doctrine  of  the  ego  would  make  it 
appear.  The  feelings  are  assumed  to  be  the  most  con- 
clusive evidence  of  an  ego,  but  the  ego  is  considered  to  be 
self  active,  and  every  mental  process  a  manifestation  of 
its  activity.  Feeling,  then,  is  an  activity  of  the  ego,  and 
is  accomplished  by  some  change  in  itself,  not  at  all  deter- 
mined by  external  conditions.  The  ego  feels  as  it  decides 
or  wishes  to  feel.    It  is  virtually  independent  of  nervous 


RELATION   OF   FEELING  TO  THE  EGO  231 

and  material  conditions.  This  means  that  feelings  are 
determined  by  the  will,  and  those  persons  are  consistent, 
if  nothing  more,  who  assert  that  the  ego  is  will,  instead 
of  feeling.  But  even  if  the  will  determines  the  feelings, 
the  will  itself  is  self  caused  activity,  not  determined  by 
anything  else,  and  moves  from  one  condition  to  another 
without  any  cause,  which  is  an  unthinkable  proposition. 

One  other  circumstance  is  believed  to  demonstrate  the 
existence  of  the  independent,  self  active  entity  called  the 
ego,  and  that  is  the  fact  of  a  continuity  of  experience 
throughout  all  the  years  of  the  individual  life.  This  is 
the  phenomenon  of  personal  identity,  and  is  rather  an 
effect  of  the  functions  of  memory  than  of  feeling. 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  the  continuity  is  not  complete 
nor  absolute.  It  is  rather  apparent  than  real,  for  the  in- 
dividuality of  the  person  does  change.  Not  only  are  there 
rapid  conversions,  but  a  slow  change  is  constantly  in 
progress.  We  fail  to  recognize  it  as  a  change,  just  as  we 
fail  to  see  the  hour  hand  of  a  clock  move,  but  the  change 
and  disruption  of  unity  is  constantly  going  on.  But 
there  are  periods  of  rapid  change,  turning  points  in  one's 
life,  such  as  the  climax  of  adolescence,  which  are  easily 
observed,  when,  as  the  result  of  rapid  growth  the  entire 
nature  seems  to  change  and  the  person  to  be  made  over 
anew.  We  fail  to  recognize  the  ordinary  changes  in  con- 
sequence of  their  slowness,  but  nevertheless  they  are  real 
and  important.  Two  stages  in  the  life  of  the  same  indi- 
vidual separated  by  a  period  of  years  are  more  widely 
different  from  each  other  than  the  stages  of  two  indi- 
viduals of  the  same  age.  A  boy  of  seven  and  the  man  of 
twenty-five  into  which  the  boy  develops,  are  more  widely 
different  than  two  boys  of  seven. 

The  only  thing  that  consciousness,  or  cognition,  can 
report  is  a  mental  process.  These  are  the  ultimate  facts, 
and  that  there  is  an  ego  of  which  these  processes  are 
activities  is  clearly  an  inference.     That  feeling  is  any 


232  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

more  an  evidence  of  a  self  active  ego  than  any  other  men- 
tal process  cannot  be  admitted.  One  mental  process  is 
quite  as  conclusive  or  inconclusive  as  another. 

There  is  a  very  proper  use  for  the  term  ego  and  for 
the  term  mind.  The  ideas  which  these  terms  connote 
are  important  and  necessary.  The  concept  of  the  ego  is 
formed  by  a  process  of  abstraction  and  comparison.  If 
we  compare  all  the  activities  of  the  human  being,  the  in- 
separable complex  of  the  physical  organism  and  the  men- 
tal processes,  and  abstract  from  all  the  activities  that  it 
manifests  the  common  elements,  we  shall  have  a  combina- 
tion of  the  characteristics  common  to  all  the  activities. 
This  is  a  general  abstract  notion  which  we  may  designate 
as  the  ego.  The  ego,  then,  may  be  defined  as  the  sum 
of  the  characteristics  that  are  common  to  all  the  activi- 
ties of  the  human  being.  By  a  similar  process,  abstract- 
ing from  all  the  mental  processes  their  common  character- 
istics and  combining  them  into  one  whole,  we  shall  have 
the  general  abstract  notion  of  mind. 

That  the  concept  of  mind  is  a  general  abstract  notion 
is  shown  in  many  ways.  Neither  feeling,  consciousness, 
nor  intellection  gives  us  any  direct  knowledge  of  mind. 
The  only  ego  that  is  perceived  in  any  manner  is  that  which 
is  manifested  in  the  inseparable  complex  of  body  and 
mental  processes.  No  mental  process  has  ever  been  expe- 
rienced nor  observed  separated  from  body  and  brain,  and 
we  have  no  justification  for  assuming  that  any  such 
separation  is  possible.  No  inference  can  possibly  be 
legitimate  which  carries  thought  farther  than  its  connec- 
tion with  a  nervous  system. 

But  a  general  abstract  notion  has  no  actual,  tangible 
thing  to  correspond  to  it.  It  is  merely  a  name  for  the 
sum  of  qualities  and  not  for  an  actual  independent  ex- 
istence. Life,  nature,  mind,  spirit,  reason,  justice,  are 
such  ideas.  They  are  important  and  necessary  for  think- 
ing, but  the  mistake  occurs  when  we  accept  these  crea- 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO   THE  EGO  233 

tions  of  the  natural  consciousness  as  actual  objects. 
When  we  give  them  a  tangible  existence  and  apply  them 
as  causes  to  the  explanation  of  phenomena,  then  we  do 
violence  to  truth  and  block  the  way  to  progress. 

Happily,  in  other  departments  of  science,  we  have  al- 
ready passed  this  critical  point,  and  no  longer  seek  to 
explain  the  phenomena  by  an  appeal  to  the  abstract.  We 
are  no  longer  content  to  explain  the  rush  of  air  into  an 
exhausted  receiver  by  saying  that  nature  abhors  a  vacuum. 
We  are  not  satisfied  to  account  for  any  natural  phenom- 
enon by  saying  that  nature  acts  in  that  particular  way. 
Nature  as  a  cause  is  not  sufficient  to  account  for  the  phe- 
nomena that  we  see.  No  physicist  regards  gravitation  as 
anything  more  than  an  abstraction,  and  the  law  of  gravi- 
tation as  a  statement  of  the  uniformity  in  the  activities  of 
bodies.  It  is  not  conceived  to  be  an  actually  existing  thing 
that  serves  as  a  cause. 

Neither  is  it  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  mental  phe- 
nomena to  say  that  the  mind  acts  in  such  or  such  a  way, 
nor  that  the  mind  interprets  certain  appearances.  Mind 
and  the  ego  are  as  much  obstructions  in  the  way  of  prog- 
ress as  are  nature,  gravitation,  and  life,  when  they  are 
described  as  real  entities  and  employed  as  tangible  exist- 
ences to  explain  natural  phenomena.  The  actual  things 
that  do  exist  are  the  phenomena  observed.  So  in  psychol- 
ogy, the  actual  things  that  we  are  called  upon  to  study 
explain  and  account  for  are  the  feelings,  rememberings, 
and  willings.  So  psychology  becomes  the  science  of  mental 
phenomena,  not  the  science  of  the  mind.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  develop  a  theory  of  the  mind  before  undertaking 
the  study  of  the  phenomena.  The  science  of  physics  is  not 
built  upon  any  theory  of  the  constitution  of  matter  nor  the 
nature  of  force.  Such  theories  are  constantly  changing 
without  in  the  least  modifying  the  phenomena  observed 
nor  interfering  with  the  value  of  the  laws  that  have  been 
established. 


234  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

The  concept  of  mind  is  derived  by  a  process  of  abstrac- 
tion from  the  phenomena,  the  phenomena  are  not  deduc- 
tions from  the  nature  of  the  mind.  Only  by  means  of  an 
approach  to  the  subject  in  this  way  is  psychological  prog- 
ress possible.  To  assert  that  mental  phenomena  are  the 
manifestations  of  mind,  and  that  these  phenomena  exist 
because  the  mind  acts  in  such  and  such  a  way,  is  similar 
to  the  method  of  studying  geology  that  accounts  for  the 
position  of  a  mountain  range  by  saying  that  God  made  it 
there,  and  reasoning  from  the  Nature  of  God  that  he  would 
naturally  locate  it  where  it  is. 

All  recent  advances  in  psychology  have  been  made  by  a 
practical  discarding  of  the  conception  of  mind  as  an  entity 
and  no  progress  is  possible  so  long  as  it  is  retained.  Prog- 
ress in  psychology  has  been  made  by  a  study  of  mental 
phenomena,  not  by  speculations  upon  the  nature  of  the 
mind.  The  method  of  writing  psychology  that  begins  with 
a  definition  of  mind,  its  nature,  and  properties,  corre- 
sponds closely  to  the  method  of  writing  history  which  be- 
gins with  tracing  the  genealogy  of  the  earliest  kings  of 
the  country  from  Adam  down. 

So  numerous  and  important  are  these  limitations  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  ego,  that  as  a  scientific  doctrine  it  must  be 
discarded,  and  no  longer  be  considered  in  the  discussion 
of  psychological  subjects,  but  it  remains  for  us  to  account 
in  some  way  for  the  phenomena  that  were  believed  to  ren- 
der it  credible.  We  have  already  seen  that  feeling,  so  far 
from  being  any  evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
ego,  and  the  independent  existence  of  the  mind,  is  not 
favorable  to  the  theory  it  is  called  upon  to  support.  It 
remains,  however,  to  point  out  the  significance  of  feeling, 
and  to  interpret  it  in  a  way  that  is  consonant  with  all  the 
phenomena  of  physical  and  mental  life. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  feeling  and  every  other 
element  of  the  psychon,  has  been  developed  by  the  processes 
of  variation,  fixed  by  natural  selection  and  transmitted  by 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO   THE   EGO  235 

heredity.  Each  of  these  elements  of  the  psychon  has  con- 
tributed some  advantage  that  rendered  a  person  better 
fitted  to  survive  in  the  circumstances  in  which  he  was 
placed.  There  are  many  devices  employed  to  adapt  dijBfer- 
ent  organic  beings  to  their  environments,  and  many  others 
that  might  have  been  employed  instead  of  those  that  were. 

Feeling  seems  to  be  one  of  those  devices  by  which  the 
human  being  has  been  adjusted  and  enabled  to  survive  in 
the  struggle  for  existence.  The  self  preserving  feelings 
enabled  the  individual  to  escape  danger,  the  community 
preserving  feelings  multiplied  the  strength  of  the  indi- 
vidual by  the  strength  of  the  entire  community,  and 
the  race  perpetuating  feelings  guaranteed  the  continuance 
of  the  race  and  the  pressure  upon  subsistence  that  enabled 
natural  selection  to  operate. 

The  feeling  of  fear  led  the  human  being  to  escape  from 
his  enemies,  but  fear  is  only  one  of  the  many  devices  that 
might  have  been  employed  to  accomplish  the  same  result. 
In  animals  such  as  the  social  insects,  in  whom  the  social 
organization  is  more  pronounced,  and  the  length  of  life  is 
shorter,  there  seems  to  be  no  indication  of  such  a  self  pre- 
serving feeling  as  fear.  In  the  human  being,  love  of  off- 
spring is  one  of  the  most  influential  feelings,  while  in  many 
animals  no  such  feeling  exists,  but  a  different  device  is 
employed  to  continue  the  species.  Such  a  device  is  mani- 
fested by  some  fishes,  where  a  single  fish  may  lay  ten 
thousand  eggs,  and  no  parental  care  or  parental  feeling 
is  manifested. 

The  entire  group  of  feelings  may  be  considered  as  a 
series  of  devices  to  accomplish  the  purpose  of  adapting 
the  individual  and  the  race  to  its  environment.  Why  is  it 
that  these  particular  devices  were  selected  out  of  all  the 
multiplicity  of  possible  devices  that  might  have  been  em- 
ployed, and  which  are  shown  in  the  constitution  of  other 
organic  beings,  is  one  of  the  ultimate  questions.  There  is 
no  essential  reason  why  feeling  should  have  been  the  par- 


236  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

ticular  device  employed  in  mjan  to  adapt  him  to  his  situa- 
tion, any  more  than  that  the  number  of  his  arms  should  be 
limited  to  two  instead  of  extended  to  five,  as  in  the  star 
fish.  Neither  can  we  explain  why  man  has  become  adapted 
to  his  environment  through  the  device  of  moving  from 
place  to  place,  instead  of  procuring  his  food  while  remain- 
ing stationary,  as  plants  do. 

Consciousness  is  another  device  by  which  man  becomes 
adjusted.  It  seems  rather  a  clumsy,  inefficient  device, 
available  for  a  transition  period,  but  which  tends  to  dis- 
appear as  the  adjustment  becomes  perfected.  However, 
it  enables  an  adjustment  to  be  made  in  situations  where, 
without  it,  the  race  would  be  compelled  to  die  out,  or  aban- 
don certain  localities.  It  stands  in  the  place  of  reflexes 
and  ready-made  instincts.  Hence  it  is  that  plasticity  of 
organization  instead  of  fixity  of  structure  is  associated 
with  the  highest  forms  of  consciousness.  While  it  is  rather 
a  condition  of  less  efficiency,  it  is  sometimes  demanded  by 
the  necessity  for  meeting  the  conditions  of  a  changed  and 
rapidly  changing  environment.  In  no  other  way  and  by 
no  other  device  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  could  the 
race  so  quickly  adapt  itself  to  changed  conditions.  This 
accounts  for  the  fact  that  many  other  animals  have  much 
more  completely  fixed  instinctive  adjustments  than  man, 
and  the  extreme  plasticity  of  organization  that  is  asso- 
ciated with  the  lack  of  fixed  instincts  makes  it  necessary 
for  man  to  remain  longer  in  the  period  of  infancy. 

Every  manifestation  of  life  consists  of  the  operation  of 
some  device  by  which  an  individual  becomes  adjusted. 
Man  is  the  best  example  of  adjustment  by  means  of 
consciousness,  feeling,  and  intellection.  It  is  doubtful, 
however,  if  the  human  species  is  at  all  better  adjusted  to 
its  environment,  or  stands  a  better  chance  of  surviving  in 
the  struggle  for  existence,  than  do  many  of  the  plants.  The 
ragweed  is  protected  from  being  eaten  by  a  bitter  taste, 
while  its  branching  habit,  terminal  spikes,  laciniate  leaves, 
and  fourteen  or  fifteen  other  devices,  are  so  correlated  with 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO   THE   EGO  237 

each  other  as  to  render  the  plant  admirably  adapted  to  its 
environment,  and  to  insure  its  propagation  in  large  num- 
bers, by  which  it  is  more  likely  to  survive.  A  single  plant 
may  produce  five  thousand  seeds,  and  for  every  seed  it  pro- 
duces about  five  hundred  thousand  pollen  grains.  Yet  the 
plant  is  without  intelligence  as  we  understand  the  term, 
and  without  feeling.  Intelligence  and  feeling  are  devices 
by  which  animals,  and  especially  man,  have  become 
adapted  to  their  environment.  Plants  have  become  ex- 
tremely specialized  in  another  direction  Avhich  does  not 
include  intelligence  and  feeling. 

This  is  the  origin  and  significance  of  feeling.  It  ranks 
in  the  constitution  of  the  human  being,  with  the  terminal 
spikes  and  bitter  taste  of  the  ragweed.  Both  have  a  cor- 
responding origin,  and  both  are  explainable  on  the  same 
principle.  We  have  tried  to  show  how  it  is  associated  with 
the  brain  and  nervous  system,  and  the  function  it  per- 
forms. 

It  is  necessary  for  us  also,  in  discussing  the  relation  of 
feeling  to  the  ego,  to  consider  the  second  series  of  phe- 
nomena that  are  relied  upon  to  demonstrate  the  existence 
of  a  substantial  entity  of  mind,  or  the  ego.  That  is  the 
phenomena  of  personal  identity,  and  the  persistence  of  the 
individual  through  all  the  years  of  his  natural  life.  We 
have  already  seen  that  this  continuity  is  not  so  nearly 
absolute  as  it  is  commonly  assumed  to  be,  and  it  is  our 
purpose  to  explain  how  such  continuity  occurs,  and  the 
limits  that  are  possible  to  it. 

This  element  of  personal  identity  was  formerly  sup- 
posed to  be  the  result  of  an  intuition,  and  immediate 
knowledge  different  from  the  ordinary  processes  of  per- 
ception and  reason.  The  mind  knows  itself  immediately. 
It  is  a  function  of  its  self  activity.  Various  explanations 
are  assigned  for  it,  but  if  we  are  to  place  psychology  on  a 
natural  science  basis,  it  is  necessary  to  show  a  foundation 
in  physiology  for  this  function  of  identity  or  sameness  in 
the  different  stages  of  individual  life.    We  must  be  able 


238  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

to  account  for  it  in  some  way,  to  discover  its  physical  and 
nervous  concomitant  for  the  basis  of  all  its  mutations, 
changes,  transformations,  and  developmental  stages. 

It  is  not  diflScult  to  show  that  every  intellectual  process 
is  capable  of  being  reduced  to  a  single  form,  that  of  the 
perception  of  resemblance.  The  ordinary  sense  perception 
is  of  this  kind,  and  a  simple  judgment  is  nothing  more.  A 
syllogism  involves  the  perception  of  resemblance  between 
two  concepts  compared  indirectly,  and  every  other  form 
of  reasoning — whether  inductive,  deductive,  analogy, 
recognition,  naming,  or  classification — involves  the  same 
thing.  It  is,  therefore,  the  one  process  that  is  essential  to 
any  act  of  the  intellect. 

We  have  an  easy  interpretation  in  physiological  terms 
of  the  perception  of  resemblance.  It  would  appear  that  in 
every  case  where  a  resemblance  is  perceived,  its  concomi- 
tant is  the  transmission  of  an  impulse  through  some  cells 
that  are  common  to  the  two  centers  traversed  in  the  per- 
ception of  the  two  objects  compared.  Two  ideas  that  are 
totally  unrelated  seem  to  have  for  their  concomitants  the 
transmission  of  an  impulse  through  two  centers  that  have 
no  cells  in  common. 

In  making  a  simple  judgment,  whose  expression  is  a 
proposition,  the  idea  which  is  the  subject  has  for  its  con- 
comitant the  transmission  of  an  impulse  through  one  com- 
bination of  cells.  The  idea  whose  expression  is  the  predi- 
cate has  for  its  concomitant  the  transmission  of  an  im- 
pulse through  another  combination  of  cells,  some  of  which 
at  least,  belong  to  the  same  combination  of  cells  that  was 
traversed  w^hen  the  idea  which  is  the  subject  was  experi- 
enced. The  element  of  resemblance  has  for  its  concomi- 
tant, then,  the  transmission  of  the  impulse  through  the 
cells  that  are  common  to  the  two  combinations,  which  may 
be  many  or  few  as  the  resemblance  is  great  or  small. 
When  this  proposition  is  carried  out  to  its  legitimate  con- 
clusion, it  will  appear  that  every  intellectual  process  has 
for  its  psychological  concomitant  the  transmission  of  an 


RELATION  OF  FEELING  TO  THE  EGO         239 

impulse  through  a  combination  of  cells,  some  of  which,  at 
least,  have  been  traversed  on  one  or  more  previous  occa- 
sions. 

But  this  will  assist  us  to  conceive  of  the  concomitant  of 
the  idea  of  personal  identity,  or  the  ego,  in  terms  of  the 
old  psychology.  Every  mental  process  has  something  in 
common  with  some  other,  or  every  other  mental  process. 
We  recognize  a  similarity  or  we  should  not  call  them 
mental,  and  there  are  further  resemblances. 

It  is  evident  that  the  first  impulses  that  traverse  the 
brain  will  pass  through  isolated  centers.  There  must  be 
two  or  more  combinations  of  cells  traversed  before  an  im- 
pulse will  pass  from  one  to  the  other,  or  before  ideas  are 
associated.  Later,  nervous  impulses  pass  from  one  center 
to  another  and  association  of  ideas  begins.  Ultimately  it 
will  come  about  that  when  a  larger  number  of  cells  have 
been  developed,  and  association  fibers  are  numerous,  that 
it  will  be  impossible  for  a  person  to  have  an  experience 
that  does  not  involve  as  its  concomitant  the  transmission 
of  an  impulse  through  centers,  some  cells  of  which  have 
been  traversed  before.  No  unrelated  experience  is  possible. 
When  this  condition  arises,  a  personality  is  born,  the  feel- 
ing of  personal  identity  is  aroused,  all  subsequent  experi- 
ences have  something  more  or  less  in  common  with  every 
other,  and  there  is  a  continuous  connection  between 
earlier  experiences  and  all  later  ones.  This  is  the  ex- 
planation of  the  fact  that  while  two  boys  of  seven  are 
more  nearly  alike  than  is  a  man  of  twenty-five  and  the 
boy  of  seven  from  whom  he  has  developed,  that  there  is  a 
kind  of  resemblance  or  continuity  between  the  man  and 
the  boy  that  cannot  exist  between  the  two  boys. 

If  it  were  possible  to  open  up  a  new  system  of  brain  cen- 
ters, and  to  interrupt  the  connections  that  are  now  formed 
between  the  sense  organs  and  the  sense  centers  to  bring 
into  operation  cells  that  had  never  been  traversed  before, 
then  we  should  expect  the  continuity  to  be  interrupted  and 
a  new  personality  to  appear.    This  explanation  seems  to 


240  THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 

be  possible,  and  is  able  to  account  for  the  physiological 
connection  between  mental  processes,  and  for  the  facts 
that  were  believed  to  necessitate  the  postulation  of  an 
entity  called  mind. 

It  would  seem,  then,  that  the  recognition  of  an  ego  in  the 
naive  sense  of  the  term,  is  an  illusion  of  the  first  order. 
The  problem  is  much  more  complex  than  has  been  assumed. 
It  involves  an  answer  to  the  question  why  any  nervous 
impulse  is  accompanied  by  a  mental  process,  and  this  we 
have  found  to  be  unapproachable  by  any  means  at  our 
command. 

For  the  science  of  psychology,  it  is  impossible  to  admit 
the  introduction  of  such  an  hypothetical  entity  as  the  ego. 
We  have  become  able  to  study  physiology  without 
assuming  the  presence  of  an  hypothetical  entity  called  life 
of  which  all  vital  activities  are  manifestations,  and  we  are 
able  to  describe  the  phenomena  of  a  living  body  in  terms  of 
chemistry,  force,  and  matter  without  introducing  life  as 
a  cause.  We  cannot  be  too  frequently  reminded  that  such 
a  method  of  studying  physiology  was  not  attained  without 
much  struggle  and  much  opprobrium  heaped  upon  the 
heads  of  the  physiologists.  The  dissection  of  the  human 
body  was  forbidden  by  law  in  some  countries,  and  the 
physiologists  who  treated  the  matter  from  the  standpoint 
of  natural  science  were  subject  to  many  material  and  ver- 
bal indignities. 

So  we  have  become  able  to  study  botany  and  zoology 
without  introducing  into  it  an  external  cause  of  which 
every  structure  and  function  is  an  expression.  Only  in 
some  manner  as  this  has  it  become  possible  to  establish  a 
science  of  physics,  chemistry,  geology,  botany,  zoology,  and 
physiology.  No  science  is  possible  unless  we  assume  at 
the  beginning  of  it  that  nature  is  uniform  in  all  respects, 
and  all  activities  that  we  see  manifested  are  neither  capri- 
cious nor  uncaused,  but  that  each  has  an  antecedent  which 
it  is  possible  for  us  to  discover  by  an  examination  of  nat- 
ural laws. 


RELATION   OF   FEELING   TO   THE   EGO  241 

Thus  it  is  that  psychology  must  conform  to  the  uniform- 
ity of  natural  laws  if  it  is  ever  to  become  a  science.  No 
factor  must  be  introduced  into  the  discussion  that  would 
make  of  mental  processes  phenomena  completely  outside 
of  the  order  of  nature  and  non-conformable  with  it.  Psy- 
chology is  the  science  of  mental  phenomena,  not  of  the  ac- 
tivities of  an  hypothetical  entity  introduced  for  the  pur- 
pose of  explainiiig  them.  By  regarding  psychology  in  this 
way,  progress  is  possible,  while  without  it  there  is  no  hope. 
Otherwise  we  shut  the  door  deliberately  against  all  at- 
tempts to  increase  our  knowledge,  and  we  waste  our  ener- 
gies in  useless  speculations  upon  the  nature,  origin  and 
destiny  of  this  entity  of  mind. 

Only  by  regarding  psychology  as  a  natural  science  and 
applying  to  its  elaboration  the  same  principles  of  scientific 
study  that  have  been  so  laboriously  worked  out  in  other 
subjects,  can  we  see  a  possibility  of  developing  a  science 
of  education.  If  there  were  to  be  postulated  an  independ- 
ent, self  active  entity  that  is  determined  in  all  its  activi- 
ties by  itself  alone,  and  not  by  the  conditions  of  its  sur- 
roundings and  its  physical  connection,  all  educational 
laws  would  be  limited  to  the  capricious  determination  of 
the  self  active  entity.  But  if  we  regard  the  human  being 
as  part  of  the  natural  world,  subject  to  the  same  laws  and 
conditions  as  are  other  parts  of  creation,  then  we  discover 
the  possibility  of  a  science  of  psychology  and  of  education. 

Synopsis. 

1 — Feeling  is  regarded  hy  many  persons  as  the  hest  evi- 
dence of  a  self  active  entity  called  ego,  or  mind.  Feeling 
is  considered  as  the  activity  of  this  self  active  entity  and  a 
proof  of  its  existence. 

2 — It  can  he  shown  that  the  evidence  of  feeling  is  directly 
contradictory  to  this  supposition,  and  feelings  find  their 
raison  d'etre  in  the  physical  organism. 

3 — The  distinction  between  physical  and  mental  feeling 


242  THE   FEELINGS   OP   MAN 

originates  in  the  recognition  that  some  of  the  feelings  exist 
as  a  consequence  of  the  necessities  of  the  physical  organ- 
ism. But  equally  well  it  may  he  shown  that  all  feelings 
originate  in  the  same  necessity.  All  egoistic  feelings  have 
their  reason  for  being  in  the  effect  they  have  in  preserving 
the  body;  the  community  preserving  feelings  arise  as  a 
consequence  of  the  necessity  for  preserving  the  community, 
and  the  race  perpetuating  feelings  from  the  necessity  for 
perpetuating  the  race.  None  of  these  feelings  would  have 
any  reason  for  being  if  the  mind  were  an  entity  capable  of 
acting  in  a  feeling  way,  and  existing  apart  from  the  bodily 
organism. 

4 — Knowledge  of  the  ego  is  not  given  directly.  It  may 
be  understood  as  arising  from  the  perception  of  sameness 
among  all  mental  processes,  which  has  its  concomitant  in 
the  transmission  of  an  impulse  through  cells  that  have 
been  traversed  before. 

5 — This  same  transmission  of  impulses  through  cells 
that  have  been  traversed  before,  accounts  for  the  conti- 
nuity of  the  individual.  If  it  were  possible  to  experience 
mental  processes  which  were  accompanied  by  impulses 
traversing  cells  and  centers,  none  of  which  had  ever  been 
traversed  before,  the  continuity  would  be  interrupted  and 
a  new  personality  would  be  born. 

6 — Psychology  is  a  natural  science,  and  rests  upon  the 
assumption  that  nature  is  uniform  throughout.  The  meta- 
physical conception  of  a  self  active,  independent  ego,  of 
which  the  feelings  are  manifestations,  must  be  discarded 
as  has  been  discarded  the  conception  of  nature,  or  of  life, 
as  an  explanation  for  phenomena  in  biology  and  physics. 

7 — Consciousness,  feeling,  and  intellect  are  devices 
which  have  been  adopted  to  enable  the  individual  and  the 
species  to  survive.  Other  organisms  have  adopted  other 
devices,  but  consciousness,  feeling  and  intellect  seem  to  be 
the  most  effective  in  enabling  an  animal  to  make  quick  and 
prompt  adjustment  to  the  exigencies  of  changed  and  chang- 
ing conditions. 


Chapter  XV. 
MENTAL   ONTOGENY. 

If  we  can  establish  the  truth  of  the  proposition  that 
feeling  is  the  concomitant  of  the  resistance  encountered 
by  a  nervous  impulse  in  passing  through  a  nervous  arc, 
and  that  all  other  mental  processes  have  their  concomi- 
tants in  some  of  the  elements  of  the  nervous  current,  we 
shall  have  a  means  of  pushing  our  investigations  into  the 
origin  of  the  mental  processes  of  a  child  much  farther  than 
if  we  had  no  such  hypothesis  to  guide  our  researches.  It 
seems  highly  desirable  that  we  shall  make  the  application 
of  the  doctrine  herein  enunciated  to  the  beginnings  of 
mental  processes,  since,  for  the  teacher  at  least,  the  study 
of  the  mental  processes  of  the  child  is  the  most  important 
part  of  psychology. 

We  shall  proceed  upon  the  assumption  that  the  theory 
of  feeling,  and  the  other  processes  associated  with  it,  has 
been  demonstrated  or  rendered  highly  probable  by  the 
line  of  argument  and  evidence  adduced  in  the  preceding 
pages.  If  this  can  be  shown  to  be  not  true,  our  specula- 
tions concerning  the  origin  of  the  mental  processes  will 
likewise  have  to  be  discarded,  and  the  corroborative  cir- 
cumstances will  of  necessity  seek  another  explanation. 

We  find  in  the  infant  at  birth,  no  mental  processes  es- 
tablished. It  would  seem  like  an  error  in  judgment  for 
Hoffding  to  assert  that  the  "Beginnings  of  conscious  life 
are  to  be  placed,  probably  before  birth."  (Psychology, 
p.  4.)  What  we  do  find  is  that  the  only  processes  estab- 
lished at  birth  are  certain  reflexes,  and  these  are  such  as 
are  necessary  for  the  immediate  continuation  of  the  in- 
dependent life  of  the  child.    The  reflexes  that  move  the 

243 


244  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

lips  and  organs  of  the  mouth  are  present,  and  these  are 
necessary  to  enable  the  child  to  take  his  first  nourishment. 
The  reflexes  that  move  the  respiratory  muscles  are  already 
well  established,  for  without  these  movements  the  child 
would  be  unable  to  survive  the  first  five  minutes  of  an 
independent  existence.  The  reflexes  of  grasping  with 
the  hands  are  well  established,  and  we  find  that  the  child 
in  the  first  half  hour  of  his  independent  life  is  able  to 
grasp  a  stick  or  finger,  and  by  means  of  this  grasping 
reflex,  to  support  the  weight  of  his  body  for  a  period  vary- 
ing from  two  seconds  to  a  minute  and  a  half.  This  reflex 
persists  for  several  days  or  weeks,  but  finally  diminishes. 
Its  presence  points  us  back  to  the  time  when  the  ancestors 
of  the  human  race  lived  in  trees.  Such  a  reflex  was 
without  any  doubt  of  serious  importance  to  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  life  of  the  child  in  the  arboreal,  primitive  con- 
dition of  man,  although  it  is  no  longer  of  essential  value. 
It  is  a  vestigial  reflex,  and  is  historical  rather  than  of 
immediate  utility. 

The  crying  reflex  is  also  established,  and  is  imme- 
diately available.  This  reflex  is  essential  to  the  child, 
for  it  is  a  demand  upon  the  parent  for  assistance,  with- 
out which  the  life  of  the  child  is  impossible.  It  is  sig- 
nificant that  this  first  signal  of  the  child  for  assistance 
is  an  auditory  rather  than  a  visual  one.  Correlated  with 
this  fact  is  the  fact  that  the  ears  of  the  parent  manifest 
no  device  by  which  the  sound  stimulus  may  be  shut  out, 
as  the  eyelid  shuts  out  the  light  from  the  eye.  The 
auditory  signal  of  the  child  is  not  affected  in  its  stimulat- 
ing properties  by  the  change  of  day  and  night. 

All  of  these  reflexes  (not  instincts)  are  present  at  birth, 
and  are  of  essential  importance  for  the  preservation  of 
the  child's  life  in  the  first  few  minutes  or  few  hours  of  his 
independent  existence.  They  have  been  established  by 
variation,  fixed  by  natural  selection,  and  transmitted  by 
heredity.    Like  all  other  reflexes,  they  involve  no  mental 


MENTAL   ONTOGENY  245 

activity.  It  is  extremely  probable  that  no  one  of  these 
reflexes  is  accompanied  by  the  transmission  of  an  impulse 
through  a  cortical  center,  but  that  only  what  are  called 
the  lower  centers  participate  in  their  production.  It  is 
characteristic  of  a  true  reflex  to  be  accompanied  by  no 
mental  process.  It  has  no  motive  in  the  psychological 
sense  of  the  term,  and  cannot  be  considered  as  an  expres- 
sion of  any  element  of  the  psychon.  If  any  action  does 
involve  a  mental  process,  it  cannot  be  considered  a  reflex. 

We  must  look  for  the  beginnings  of  mental  life  in  the 
activities  of  the  senses.  The  senses  at  birth  are  inactive. 
The  child  is  born  deaf  and  blind.  He  cannot  taste  or 
smell.  It  may  be  questionable  if  the  sense  of  touch  or 
temperature  is  capable  of  functioning.  All  of  these  senses 
must  acquire  their  proper  activity  after  birth.  Let  us 
study  the  development  of  the  sense  of  hearing,  and  that 
may  serve  as  a  type  for  the  other  senses. 

At  birth  the  child  is  deaf.  The  ear  itself  is  not  ready 
to  function.  The  external  auditory  meatus  is  closed,  and 
its  edges  are  in  contact  with  each  other.  Before  the  ear 
can  function,  it  must  open  and  permit  the  air  to  come  into 
contact  with  the  tympanic  membrane.  The  middle  ear  is 
filled  with  liquid  which  must  be  carried  away  before  it  can 
become  functional.  When  these  changes  have  been  ac- 
complished, the  ear  is  ready  to  function,  but  the  child 
cannot  yet  hear.  The  vibration  of  the  air  strikes  the 
tympanic  membrane,  but  until  a  nervous  impulse  is  es- 
tablished in  the  terminal  filaments  of  the  auditory  nerve, 
there  is  is  no  possibility  of  hearing.  We  have  no  means 
of  judging  how  many  repetitions  are  necessary  before  the 
vibrations  will  establish  an  impulse. 

After  a  nervous  impulse  has  been  established  in  the 
terminal  filaments  of  the  auditory  nerve,  it  must  be  trans- 
mitted to  the  hearing  center  in  the  brain  before  there  is 
any  possibility  of  a  sensation  of  hearing.  It  may  be  that 
the  first  impulse  which  is  established  in  the  terminal  fila- 


246  THE  FEELINGS  OF   MAN 

ments  is  transmitted  to  the  brain  center,  and  goes  through 
a  combination  of  cells,  but  from  what  we  know  of  the  rate 
of  transmission  of  a  nervous  impulse  hi  a  nerve,  and  the 
improvement  by  practice  through  a  nervous  arc,  it  would 
seem  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  first  impulse  which 
is  started  gets  only  a  little  way  in  the  nerve.  The  second 
impulse  would  travel  the  same  path,  and  would  proceed 
farther  along  the  auditory  nerve  than  did  the  first  one. 
The  third  and  succeeding  ones  would  travel  along  the 
course  of  the  first  impulse,  each  encountering  less  resist- 
ance than  the  preceding  until  finally  a  nervous  impulse 
would  succeed  in  getting  into  the  brain  center. 

But  we  know  that  in  the  brain  center,  a  much  greater 
degree  of  resistance  is  encountered  than  in  the  nerve 
itself.  Hence  we  should  expect  it  to  take  a  much  longer 
time  to  establish  a  pathway  through  the  brain  center  than 
through  the  nerve.  The  first  impulse  that  enters  the 
brain  center  would,  in  all  probability,  be  lost  completely 
and  not  succeed  in  making  a  complete  circuit.  Hence  its 
concomitant  would  be  all  feeling,  and  not  an  intellectual 
process,  a  sensation.  This  is  the  interpretation  that,  in 
the  light  of  the  present  day  knowledge,  we  might  put  upon 
Mr.  Spencer's  statement  that,  all  intellectual  processes 
grow  out  of  feeling. 

Finally  there  comes  a  time  when  the  nervous  impulse 
succeeds  in  overcoming  the  resistance  and  gets  through 
the  nervous  arc  in  the  hearing  center.  A  hearing  center 
is  thus  organized  and  the  sensation  of  hearing  is  estab- 
lished. This  process  of  organizing  the  brain  center,  over- 
coming the  resistance,  establishing  a  nervous  impulse, 
and  modifying  the  nervous  tissue  until  it  will  permit  a 
nervous  impulse  to  pass  through,  demands  some  time. 
Hearing  may  be  established  in  the  first  two  days  of  life, 
but  it  is  more  likely  to  be  three  or  five  days.  A  child  may 
be  deaf  for  four  weeks  and  still  ultimately  become  able 
to  hear,  although,  if  it  cannot  hear  at  the  end  of  the  fourth 


MENTAL   ONTOGENY  247 

week  of  life,  the  probability  is  strong  that  it  will  never 
hear. 

The  process  which  we  have  illustrated  by  means  of  the 
sense  of  hearing,  is  the  same  process  that  is  manifested 
in  the  original  functioning  of  every  other  sense.  It  may 
be  that  the  sense  of  touch,  the  most  fundamental  of  all 
the  senses,  is  organized  at  birth,  but  the  reflexes  that  are 
adduced  as  evidence  do  not  prove  it  to  be  so.  It  is  prob- 
able that  the  brain  center  for  touch  is  not  more  easily 
permeable  for  the  nervous  impulse  than  is  the  center  for 
hearing.  Whether  promptly  or  slowly,  we  must  recognize 
that  all  the  senses  become  functional  in  the  first  few  days 
or  weeks  of  life.  It  remains  for  us  to  inquire  what  mental 
processes  are  involved  in  their  activity. 

Assuming  that  the  preceding  propositions  can  be  es- 
tablished, it  will  appear  that  the  first  mental  process  that 
occurs  is  feeling,  coming  even  before  the  intellectual 
process  of  sensation.  The  resistance  that  is  to  be  over- 
come in  a  brain  center  in  process  of  organization  is  rela- 
tively great.  It  has  already  been  shown  that  the  prin- 
cipal difference  between  a  feeling  that  has  a  painful  tone 
and  one  that  has  a  pleasurable  tone  is  associated  with  a 
greater  or  less  degree  of  resistance.  Since  the  resistance 
that  accompanies  the  transmission  of  the  first  impulses 
through  a  nervous  arc  is  a  great  one,  we  may  say  with  a 
good  deal  of  probability  that  the  first  feelings  are  painful 
in  tone.  We  reach  this  conclusion  in  a  theoretical  way, 
thus  corroborating  the  observations  of  many  persons  who 
have  believed  that  they  recognized  in  the  first  cries  of  a 
child  the  expression  of  pain.  Thus  Hoffding  speaks  of 
the  "Cry  of  pain  with  which  the  infant  begins  its  life." 
{Psychology,  p.  4) ;  and  Darwin  says  that  "Infants  scream 
from  pain  directly  after  birth."  (Expression  of  Emotions, 
p.  352.) 

It  is  certainly  questionable  whether  this  interpretation 
of  an  infant's  cry  is  justified,  but  we  do  know  that  the 


248  THE    FEELINGS    OF    MAN 

cry  of  a  child  is  an  expression  which  later  is  associated 
with  a  feeling  having  a  painful  tone,  and  not  with  a  pleas- 
urable feeling.  It  much  precedes  the  laugh,  which  later 
we  learn  to  interpret  as  an  expression  of  pleasure.  Many 
observers  refuse  to  recognize  in  the  cry  an  expression  of 
pain,  but  certainly  it  is  not  an  expression  of  pleasure. 
In  fact,  all  that  we  can  say,  if  we  refuse  to  recognize  in 
the  cry  an  expression  of  pain,  is  that  the  cry  is  a  reflex, 
and  not  an  expression  of  feeling  at  all.  This  is  certainly 
a  reasonable  interpretation,  and  the  cry  is  not  an  evidence 
that  the  first  feelings  are  painful.  Nevertheless,  it  is 
probable  that  the  first  feelings  are  painful,  and  that  the 
reflex  cry  comes  to  be  adopted  as  an  expression  of  a  pain- 
ful feeling  because  it  is  already  well  established  when  the 
first  painful  feelings  are  experienced. 

There  is  one  way  of  looking  at  the  matter  in  which 
we  may  say  that  the  first  mental  process  is  not  a  painful 
feeling.  If  we  consider  feeling  a  form  of  consciousness, 
and  assert  that  there  can  be  no  mental  process  of  which 
we  are  not  conscious,  then  the  first  mental  experiences 
are  not  painful  feelings.  The  child  does  not  manifest  any 
consciousness  at  the  time  that  the  first  nervous  impulses 
are  passing  through  the  brain  centers.  But  we  have  seen 
that  this  use  of  the  word  leads  us  into  very  great  difficul- 
ties, and  it  seems  much  better  and  more  in  accordance 
with  the  facts,  even  though  in  opposition  to  the  prevail- 
ing custom,  to  say  that  there  are  many  mental  processes 
without  the  accompanying  phenomena  of  consciousness, 
or  awareness,  of  the  process. 

We  need  to  ask  whether  the  child  manifests  any  con- 
sciousness in  connection  with  the  process  which  we  have 
described  as  a  painful  feeling.  We  have  little  to  guide  us 
here  except  our  theoretical  considerations  again.  If  we 
think  of  consciousness  as  the  concomitant  of  the  radiation 
of  the  nervous  impulse  out  of  the  brain  center  into  the 
fringing  cells,  which  radiation  is  occasioned  by  the  resist- 


MENTAL   ONTOGENY  249 

ance  which  the  nervous  impulse  encounters,  we  have  the 
conditions  for  consciousness.  But  at  the  same  time,  the 
resistance  that  is  encountered  in  an  attempt  to  pass  into 
the  fringing  cells  is  also  very  great,  so  that  it  is  doubtful 
if  in  the  first  nervous  impulses  there  is  any  radiation,  and 
consequently  if  there  is  any  consciousness.  The  probable 
conclusion  is  that  the  first  impulses  that  enter  the  brain 
center  are  not  accompanied  by  radiation,  that  feeling  is 
experienced  without  any  consciousness,  and  that  a  feeling 
of  a  painful  tone  exists.  We  may  have  the  same  kind  of 
a  mental  process  that  is  experienced  by  a  person  asleep 
who  is  afflicted  with  nightmare.  The  person  may  be  un- 
conscious, but  every  one  who  observes  him  will  feel  con- 
fident that  he  is  experiencing  some  kind  of  a  painful  feel- 
ing. Similarly,  when  a  person  is  undergoing  a  surgical 
operation  under  the  influence  of  chloroform,  the  condi- 
tions of  pain  are  there — if  the  narcosis  is  not  too  deep — 
but  the  consciousness  is  wanting.  It  seems  more  nearly 
in  accordance  with  the  facts  for  us  to  think  of  these  expe- 
riences as  pain,  rather  than  a  total  absence  of  all  mental 
processes. 

Feeling,  then,  appears  in  the  psychon  before  conscious- 
ness. When  repeated  attempts  to  pass  through  a  brain  cen- 
ter and  as  frequently  repeated  attempts  to  radiate  out  into 
the  fringing  cells  have  so  modified  the  brain  centers  that  the 
nervous  impulse  can  escape,  then  we  have  the  physiologi- 
cal conditions  of  consciousness,  and  this  third  element  of 
the  psychon  has  become  established.  The  first  conscious- 
ness is  naturally  very  vague  and  indefinite,  and  this  fact 
of  itself  modifies  the  expressions  that  tell  of  the  presence 
of  other  elements,  and  renders  the  determination  of  the 
first  appearance  of  consciousness  in  the  psychon  impos- 
sible. At  the  very  best,  the  first  appearance  of  conscious- 
ness must  bear  about  the  same  relation  to  a  fully  devel- 
oped consciousness  that  the  acorn  bears  to  the  tree  that 
springs  from  it. 


250  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

From  a  single  sense  a  child  gets  a  single  sensation. 
This  is  scarcely  complex  enough  to  be  called  a  perception, 
but  the  difference  is  not  very  great.  From  every  sense 
he  may  receive  a  sensation  when  all  of  them  become  ac- 
tive. There  comes  a  time  after  many  sensations  have 
been  received  from  different  senses  that  the  nervous  im- 
pulse established  in  one  end-organ  combines  with  the  im- 
pulses established  in  other  sense  organs  according  to  the 
law  of  the  attraction  of  the  impulse.  We  have,  then,  two 
or  more  impulses  which  run  together,  and  we  have  two 
sensations  established  at  the  same  time  that  modify  each 
other.    This  is  the  physiological  condition  of  perception. 

The  running  together  of  two  or  more  Impulses  estab- 
lished in  different  places,  some  of  which  are  peripherally 
and  some  of  which  are  centrally  initiated,  is  the  physio- 
logical concomitant  of  perception.  The  two  or  more  sen- 
sations are  associated  by  that  form  of  the  law  of  resem- 
blance which  is  called  coexistence.  When  two  or  more 
nervous  impulses  are  established  at  the  same  time,  as 
when  we  see  a  bell  and  hear  its  sound,  or  see  and  feel  an 
apple,  the  combination  of  these  two  or  more  sensations 
constitute  the  process  of  perception.  It  can  be  shown 
that  all  knowledge  is  relative,  and  that  nothing  is  known 
except  as  it  is  related  to  something  else.  Perception,  as 
well  as  every  other  mental  process,  depends  upon  the  per- 
ception of  relations.  The  formation  of  the  general  abstract 
notion,  judgment,  reasoning,  are  different  degrees  of  com- 
plexity in  the  perception  of  relations.  They  all  have  one 
common  element,  and  when  one,  such  as  perception,  is 
established,  we  have  in  it  the  germ  of  every  other  intel- 
lectual process,  no  matter  how  complex  the  process  may 
ultimately  become. 

The  first  experience  that  leads  to  perception  is  not  a 
perception  in  itself.  Perception  involves  the  recognition 
of  relations,  and  since  it  is  possible  to  use  the  term  re- 
semblance in  a  sense  broad  enough  to  cover  all  forms  of 


MENTAL    ONTOGENY  251 

relation,  we  may  say  that  perception  involves  the  recog- 
nition of  resemblance.  This  recognition  of  resemblance 
implies  that  a  nervous  impulse  traverses  some  of  the  brain 
cells  that  have  been  traversed  before.  We  shall  never 
have  a  perception  unless  some  of  the  cells  involved  have 
been  traversed  by  an  impulse  on  a  previous  occasion. 

Memory  is  not  a  new  or  really  different  process.  It 
becomes  established  in  consequence  of  the  modification 
of  the  nervous  arc  by  the  transmission  of  a  nervous  im- 
pulse through  it.  The  process  of  memory  described  in 
Chapter  XI  may  be  considered  as  having  its  concomitant 
in  the  transmission  of  a  nervous  impulse  through  the  same 
brain  center  that  it  traversed  before,  and  the  radiating 
out  into  the  same  fringing  cells.  However,  in  order  to 
constitute  the  process  a  process  of  memory,  the  impulse 
must  be  centrally  initiated  and  not  peripherally,  other- 
wise it  would  be  a  repetition  of  the  original  experience, 
and  vivid ;  instead  of  a  remembered  experience,  and  faint. 

As  repeated  experiences  which  are  accompanied  by  the 
transmission  of  a  nervous  impulse  through  a  nervous  arc 
become  numerous,  and  the  nervous  impulse  spreads  out 
into  the  fringing  cells,  the  arc  becomes  modified  in  such 
a  manner  that  it  is  very  easily  traversed  by  even  a  feeble 
impulse,  such  as  a  centrally  initiated  one  always  is. 
When  such  a  centrally  initiated  impulse  is  able  to  trav- 
erse such  an  arc,  and  to  spread  out  into  the  same  fring- 
ing cells,  we  have  the  physiological  concomitant  of  mem- 
ory in  its  two  phases,  mental  reproduction  and  mental 
recognition.  There  is  no  new  element  introduced.  The 
nervous  impulse  goes  through  the  brain  center,  the  con- 
comitant of  the  intellectual  process ;  it  encounters  resist- 
ance, the  concomitant  of  feeling ;  it  radiates  out  into  the 
fringing  cells,  the  concomitant  of  consciousness. 

It  will  be  seen,  then,  that  there  is  but  little  difference 
in  the  times  at  which  the  three  elements  of  the  psychon 
become  established  in  the  germ.    Feeling  is  probably  the 


252  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

first,  and  is  very  shortly  followed  by  consciousness  and 
sensation.  Out  of  sensation,  by  an  association  of  sensa- 
tions, and  running  together  of  nervous  impulses,  grows 
perception,  and  this  involves  the  perception  of  relation, 
or  resemblance,  in  which  is  the  germ  of  every  other  intel- 
lectual process,  which  develops  from  it  by  an  increase  in 
complexity.  By  a  manipulation  and  modification  of  these 
three,  we  come  to  experience  every  other  possible  process 
and  modification  of  the  mental  life. 

The  consciousness  of  self  does  not  develop  so  soon  as 
does  consciousness.  A  child  is  conscious  long  before  he 
is  conscious  of  himself  as  exercising  the  mental  processes. 
The  personality  is  not  born  for  some  time  after  the  mental 
processes  of  feeling,  consciousness,  and  perception  have 
become  established.  The  explanation  of  the  process  of 
the  development  of  personality  is  to  be  inferred  from  the 
description  of  it  in  chapter  XIV.  The  first  recollections 
of  a  person  are  usually  of  something  that  has  been  expe- 
rienced somewhere  between  the  ages  of  one  and  three 
years,  although  in  extreme  cases  reports  have  been  made 
that  seem  to  be  well  established  as  any  others,  of  some- 
ting  remembered  at  the  age  of  ten  months. 

When  such  an  event  occurs  that  is  thus  remembered, 
we  may  be  satisfied  that  the  consciousness  of  self,  or  per- 
sonality has  become  fully  established.  The  time  at  which 
a  child  discovers  that  he  has  hands,  or  that  his  hands 
belong  to  him,  is  an  important  epoch  in  his  life.  It  is  a 
phenomenon  that  is  seldom  overlooked  by  a  mother,  or 
other  person  who  has  intimate  knowledge  of  a  baby.  The 
probability  is  that  the  consciousness  of  self,  or  person- 
ality, has  become  established  sometime  before  the  first 
remembered  experience,  or  even  before  the  child  has 
found  his  hands. 

After  a  child  has  arrived  at  a  certain  stage  in  his  de- 
velopment, which  point  is  reached  before  he  has  attained 
the  age  of  two  years,  or  even  a  year  and  a  half,  his  brain 


MENTAL   ONTOGENY  253 

centers  have  been  traversed  by  so  many  different  impulses, 
and  so  many  different  brain  cells  have  been  traversed, 
that  no  subsequent  experience  is  likely  to  involve  a  wholly 
new  set.  The  feeling  of  familiarity  or  resemblance,  is  to 
be  found  in  every  subsequent  experience  however  diverse. 
Every  experience  has  an  elemnt  of  sameness  which  is 
associated  with  the  employment  of  the  same  brain  cells. 
It  is  this  element  of  sameness  in  every  experience,  which, 
when  abstracted,  constitutes  the  feeling  or  idea  of  per- 
sonal identity. 

We  may  picture  the  matter  to  ourselves  in  this  way. 
We  have  in  our  brains  perhaps  seven  hundred  million 
brain  cells.  It  is  probable  that  no  large  proportion  of 
them  is  ever  traversed  by  an  impulse.  Let  us  suppose  that 
one  hundred  millions  have  at  some  time  been  traversed. 
Let  us  represent  this  number  and  group  of  cells  by  A. 
Let  us  represent  another  hundred  millions  of  cells  by  B, 
and  so  on.  All  of  our  previous  experiences  have  been 
confined  within  the  limits  of  the  hundred  million  cells 
designated  by  A.  Let  us  suppose  that  w^e  could  have  a 
totally  unrelated  experience,  open  up  a  new  set  of  brain 
centers  which  would  involve  none  of  the  cells  in  the  por- 
tions designated  by  C,  etc.  Then  we  should  undergo  a 
series  of  experiences  in  which  there  would  be  no  feeling 
of  familiarity  and  a  new  personality  would  be  born. 

Such  a  conception  will  enable  us  to  explain  the  phe- 
nomena of  double,  or  alternating  personality,  although 
we  cannot  account  for  the  mechanism  by  w^hich  such  a 
transformation  of  centers,  pathologically  developed, 
might  be  attained.  Such  a  conception  is  considerably 
more  satisfactory  than  it  is  to  describe  the  alternating 
personality  as  a  "Portion  of  the  consciousness  that  has 
split  off."  Whenever  there  comes  a  time  that  it  is  im- 
possible to  have  an  unrelated  experience,  w^e  may  say 
that  a  personality  has  been  born.  Until  an  unrelated 
experience  is  impossible,  personality,  or  the  consciousness 
of  self,  is  still  undeveloped. 


254  THE    FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

The  oxidation  of  nervous  tissue  liberates  nervo-motive 
force.  We  must  suppose  that  this  liberation  of  nervo- 
motive  force  occurs  wherever  brain  tissue  is  oxidized. 
This  process  of  oxidation  and  liberation  of  force,  no  doubt, 
begins  as  soon  as  oxygen  is  carried  directly  by  the  blood 
to  the  brain  tissue.  Hence  we  have  from  the  very  begin- 
ning of  life,  perhaps,  antecedent  to  the  independent  exist- 
ence of  the  child,  the  physiological  process  whose  concomi- 
tant we  have  recognized  as  one  of  the  elements  of  will. 
It  is  the  nervo-motive  force  that  drives  the  impulse 
through  the  brain  center,  but  it  is  scarcely  capable  of 
originating  a  centrally  initiated  impulse  sufficiently 
strong  to  pass  through  a  brain  center  until  the  center  has 
been  modified  by  previous  experiences  brought  about  by 
the  stronger  peripherally  initiated  impulses.  Hence, 
although  nervo-motive  force  is  available  immediately  at 
the  beginning  of  independent  life,  nevertheless,  there  is 
no  possibility  of  an  act  of  the  will  until  after  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  other  elements  of  the  psychon. 

Nervo-motive  force  is  only  one  element  of  the  will. 
Attention,  which  directs  the  nervous  impulse  through  the 
brain  center,  is  another,  and  we  shall  find  the  element  of 
attention  appearing  along  with  the  other  elements  of  the 
psychon.  Whatever  it  is  that  directs  the  nervous  impulse 
through  the  brain  center  and  prevents  its  spreading  out 
into  other  paths,  is  the  concomitant  of  rudimentary  at- 
tention. In  all  early  experiences  this  directing  of  the 
nervous  impulse  is  essentially  of  the  same  nature  as  a  re- 
flex. The  nervous  impulse  follows  the  path  of  least  re- 
sistance as  that  is  determined  by  the  structure  of  the 
brain,  and  the  nervous  pathways  already  organized.  There 
is  no  effort  involved  in  the  process,  and  in  all  respects  this 
early  process  of  directing  the  nervous  impulse  corre- 
sponds to  the  description  of  spontaneous  attention.  It 
depends  upon  the  constitution  of  the  brain  centers,  it  is  a 
matter  of  heredity,  and  spontaneous  attention  appears 


MENTAL   ONTOGENY  255 

in  a  rudimentary  form  as  soon  as  a  nervous  impulse  is 
directed  into  and  through  a  brain  center.  All  forms  and 
degrees  of  attention  are  derived  from  this  primary,  fun- 
damental condition. 

But  there  is  still  a  difficult  process  to  study,  and  to 
show  that  it  harmonizes  with  the  other  propositions  laid 
down  in  this  chapter.  We  have  already  studied  the  begin- 
nings of  rudimentary  will,  by  means  of  its  physiological 
concomitant,  but  we  need  to  study  the  process  by  which 
a  conscious  voluntary  act  manifests  itself.  We  shall  need 
to  trace  the  development  out  of  a  reflex,  through  imita- 
tion into  the  conscious  voluntary  condition. 

A  reflex  is  not  a  mental  process.  A  muscle  may  con- 
tract reflexly  by  means  of  a  stimulus  applied  either  di- 
rectly to  the  muscle  itself  or,  much  better,  by  a  stimulus 
applied  to  the  motor  nerve  which  produces  a  much  more 
vigorous  contraction.  It  is  possible,  and  even  decidedly 
probable,  that  the  first  reflex  contractions  of  the  muscles 
of  a  child  involve  none  of  the  cerebral  motor  centers. 
But  when  a  muscle  contracts  reflexly,  there  is  established 
in  the  sensory  nerves  of  the  contracting  muscle  an  impulse 
that  is  carried  backward  to  the  brain  center  for  muscular 
sensation.  We  do  not  know  the  location  of  the  muscular 
sensation  center,  as  we  do  that  of  the  sight  and  hearing 
centers,  but,  reasoning  by  analogy,  one  exists,  and  the 
sensory  impulse  originating  in  the  muscular  contraction 
is  carried  to  it.  The  muscular  sensation  center  becomes 
organized  by  repeated  experiences  of  this  kind. 

The  next  step  in  the  process  is  one  in  which  the  child 
comes  to  perceive  the  movement  of  his  hand,  or  other 
organ  that  is  moved  by  the  muscular  contraction.  The 
muscular  sensation  is  experienced,  the  child  sees  his  hand 
moving,  and  perhaps  experiences  the  sensation  of  touch 
from  the  movement.  The  combination  of  all  these  sensa- 
tions and  the  recognition  of  their  resemblance,  coexist- 
ence, and  contiguity,  constitutes  the  perception  of  the 
movement  of  the  hand. 


256  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

As  a  result  of  the  organization  of  the  muscular  sensation 
center,  a  nervous  impulse  runs  through  it  easily,  and 
flows  over  into  other  centers  most  easy  of  access.  These 
are  likely  to  be  the  motor  centers,  although  it  is  prob- 
able that  many  other  centers  are  innervated  to  a  greater 
or  less  degree.  The  first  movements  that  follow  upon  the 
overflow  of  these  impulses  from  the  muscular  sensation 
centers  are  not  likely  to  be  limited  to  the  movement  of  the 
hand,  if  that  is  the  organ  that  has  moved,  but  many  mus- 
cles, of  the  head,  legs,  body  and  hand,  may  all  move  as  a 
result  of  this  overflow.  These  movements  may  be  con- 
sidered as  expressions  of  feeling,  although  they  are  not 
commonly  so  regarded. 

The  next  step  in  the  process  is  imitation.  Imitation 
manifests  itself  in  children  long  after  the  reflex  move- 
ments have  occurred,  and  there  is  abundant  time  for  the 
organization  of  the  motor  centers  in  the  manner  just  de- 
scribed. Imitation  is  believed  to  be  manifested  by  a  little 
child  some  time  between  the  age  of  three  (Preyer)  and 
nine  months.     (Baldwin.) 

Suppose  that  a  parent  waves  his  hand  at  a  little  child. 
The  muscular  sensation  centers,  and  the  sight  center  for 
the  waving  of  the  child's  hand  have  already  been  organized 
by  previous  experiences.  They  have  been  associated  in 
the  process  of  perceiving  the  movement  of  the  child's 
hand.  The  impulse  traverses  the  sight-hand-waving  cen- 
ter, it  may  pass  over  into  the  muscular  sensation  center 
for  the  contraction  of  the  muscles  that  move  the  hand, 
and  then  it  flows  over  into  the  motor  centers  for  the  wav- 
ing of  the  hand,  and  the  hand  moves  in  response.  The 
hand  weaves  in  response,  because  of  the  similarity  between 
the  parent's  hand  and  the  child's  hand.  The  similarity 
exists  in  the  hand,  and  it  has  its  concomitant  in  the  cells 
of  the  sight  and  the  muscular  sensation  centers.  It  is  in 
this  way  that  the  child  perceives  that  it  is  the  parent's 
hand  that  moves  and  he  interprets  and  knows  the  mean- 


MENTAL   ONTOGENY  257 

ing  of  the  action  by  this  process  which  has  for  its  concomi- 
tant the  transmission  of  the  impulse  through  the  sight 
center,  the  muscular  sensation  center,  and  the  motor 
center.  This  is  imitation,  but  it  is  not  a  conscious  volun- 
tary act. 

A  sufficient  number  of  such  experiences  lead  to  a  modifi- 
cation of  the  different  centers  involved  in  the  imitative 
act  until  finally  a  weak,  centrally  initiated  impulse  may 
travel  the  same  path.  When  this  is  the  case  and  a  cen- 
trally initiated  impulse  does  traverse  the  sight  center,  and 
passes  over  into  the  muscular  sensation  center,  and  over- 
flows into  the  motor  center,  then  the  child  is  able  to  see  and 
feel  his  hand  waving  before  it  moves.  He  has  an  idea 
of  the  movement  before  the  movement  is  made.  This  is  an 
antecedent  mental  act,  which  constitutes  the  motive  to 
the  action  itself.  It  is  just  this  antecedent  mental  proc- 
ess, which  has  its  concomitant  in  the  nervous  impulse 
passing  through  the  hand  waving  center,  that  makes  the 
difference  between  the  reflex,  or  the  imitative  act,  and  the 
conscious  voluntary  act.  Also,  in  just  this  situation,  the 
nervous  impulse  overflows  into  the  motor  center  especially 
if  there  is  a  sufficient  amount  of  current  to  accompany 
considerable  resistance,  and  the  movement  follows.  This 
movement  is  a  conscious  voluntary  act,  and  comes  as  the 
result  of  previous  experiences  of  a  reflex  and  imitative 
nature. 

This  last  point,  the  establishing  of  a  conscious  volun- 
tary act,  is  the  point,  at  which  in  general,  will  is  believed 
to  originate.  As  we  have  already  seen,  will  is  established 
before,  when  there  is  a  liberation  of  nervo-motive  force 
and  the  direction  of  it  by  an  effort  of  attention.  The  will 
is  established  before  there  is  any  conscious  voluntary  act. 

Synopsis. 

1 — The  theory  that  feeling  is  the  concomitant  of  resist- 
ance, and  that  other  elements  of  the  psychon  are  concomi- 


258  THE    FEELINGS    OF    MAN 

tants  of  corresponding  elements  of  the  nervous  current, 
enables  us  to  study  the  phenomena  hy  which  the  mental 
processes  of  a  child  begin. 

2 — The  only  processes  established  at  birth  are  reflexes 
which  are  necessary  to  enable  a  child  to  survive  the  first 
few  hours  or  first  few  days  of  an  independent  existence. 

3 — We  must  seek  the  beginnings  of  mental  life  in  the 
activities  of  the  senses.  The  sensations  are  not  expe- 
rienced until  a  sense  organ  has  become  functional,  a  ner- 
vous impulse  established  in  the  peripheral  nerve  endings, 
carried  to  a  brain  center,  and  the  nervous  arc  traversed. 

4 — Much  resistance  is  encountered  in  the  initial  passage 
through  a  brain  center,  and  much  concomitant  feeling 
experienced.     The  feeling  is  probably  decidedly  painful. 

5 — Consciousness  is  not  established  until  after  repeated 
trials  a  nervous  impulse  is  not  only  able  to  enter  a  brain 
center,  but  to  radiate  out  into  fringing  cells.  This  is 
probably  accomplished  before  an  impulse  succeeds  in  pass- 
ing properly  through  a  brain  center. 

6 — When  an  impulse  succeeds  in  traversing  a  brain 
center,  sensation  is  established.  When  two  or  more  sen- 
sations are  established  at  the  same  time,  and  their  concom- 
itant impulses  run  together,  we  have  the  conditions  of  per- 
ception. 

7 — By  a  modification  of  nervous  arcs,  weaker  centrally 
initiated  impulses  are  capable  of  being  transmitted 
through  the  brain  center,  and  memory  is  awakened.  At- 
tention is  involved  in  any  process  by  which  the  impulse 
is  directed  through  a  nervous  arc.  Will  exists  in  germ 
as  soon  as  nervous  energy  is  liberated. 

8 — Personality  and  the  consciousness  of  self  is  estab- 
lished as  soon  as  there  have  been  a  sufficient  number  of 
experiences  so  that  it  is  impossible  to  have  an  unrelated 
one.  When  it  is  impossible  to  pass  a  nervous  impulse 
through  centers,  none  of  whose  cells  have  ever  been  trav- 
ersed before,  a  personality  has  been  born. 


Chapter  XVI. 
FEELING    AS    MOTIVE. 

Every  conscious  voluntary  act  is  preceded  by  some  kind 
of  a  mental  process  which  is  called  the  motive.  The  action 
follows  upon  the  motive  as  an  effect  follows  a  cause.  The 
motive  must  always  precede,  and  it  is  an  erroneous  con- 
ception of  a  motive  to  consider  an  action  as  induced  by 
the  effect  which  follows  upon  the  action  itself.  The  mo- 
tive may  be  such  a  mental  process  that  it  anticipates  the 
result  of  the  action,  but  in  order  to  constitute  a  motive, 
the  mental  process  must  be  experienced  before  the  action 
is  performed.  A  reflex  differs  from  a  conscious  voluntary 
act  in  the  fact  that  no  mental  process  accompanies  it. 

Many  psychologists  consider  that  every  conscious  vol- 
untary act  is  motivated  by  feeling,  and  that  feeling  con- 
stitutes the  essential  antecedent  condition,  without  which 
no  action  follows.  They  would  regard  the  proposition 
as  self  evident  that  without  any  feeling  there  would  be  no 
occasion,  desire,  disposition,  or  possibility  of  moving.  A 
common  expression  is  that  "Feelings  form  the  will,"  and 
no  conscious  voluntary  action  can  be  conceived  except  as 
the  result  of  some  feeling  experienced.  Dr.  McCosh  speaks 
of  feelings  as  the  Motive  Powers,  and  it  is  believed  that 
feelings  have  their  principal  functions  as  motives  to 
action. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  psychologists  who  believe 
that  the  idea  is  the  motive  and  the  only  essential  ante- 
cedent mental  process.  An  idea  is  an  intellectual  process, 
and  may  be  discriminated  sharply  from  the  affective 
process  of  feeling.  An  idea  is  the  psychological  concomi- 
tant of  the  transmission  of  an  impulse  through  a  brain 


260  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

center  and,  strictly  interpreted,  the  impulse  must  be  one 
that  is  centrally  initiated.  Those  who  regard  the  idea  as 
the  motive,  point  to  the  fact  that  every  idea  tends  to 
work  itself  out  into  action.  Whenever  an  idea  is  enter- 
tained, the  action  which  corresponds  to  it  is  already  be- 
gun. If  the  idea  is  faint  and  obscure,  the  action  is  feeble 
and  manifested  only  slightly.  If  the  idea  is  clear  and 
definite,  the  complete  and  vigorous  actions  follows.  The 
idea  of  an  action  is  the  beginning  of  the  action  itself. 
If  there  is  only  feeling  without  the  idea,  any  action  that 
follows  is  merely  reflex,  spasmodic,  and  uncoordinated. 
Every  idea  will  manifest  itself  in  some  way;  if  not  in 
positive,  vigorous  action,  then  in  slight  movements  that 
can  be  detected  by  an  automatograph. 

Here,  then,  we  have  two  contradictory  theories  ap- 
parently irreconcilable.  The  advocates  of  feeling  as  a 
motive  fail  to  discover  any  motivating  force  in  the  idea, 
while  the  advocates  of  the  motivating  force  of  the  idea, 
even  if  they  acknowledge  the  presence  of  the  feeling,  fail 
to  discover  that  it  is  necessary  to  the  action,  but  regard 
it  rather  as  a  hindrance.  The  more  nearly  perfect  an 
action  becomes,  the  more  nearly  free  from  feeling  is  the 
antecedent  mental  process. 

The  proposition  that  feeling  is  the  motivating  force  was 
advanced  before  any  special  consideration  was  given  to 
the  physiological  processes  accompanying  it,  and  when  we 
undertake  to  describe  the  manner  in  which  feeling  brings 
about  a  conscious  voluntary  act,  we  find  it  is  impossible 
to  do  so.  No  one  has  ever  described  in  a  satisfactory  way, 
the  manner  in  which  a  mental  process  of  feeling  can  cause 
a  nervous  impulse  to  run  out  into  a  muscle  and  produce  a 
contraction.  Still  less  is  it  possible  to  show  how  feeling 
can  direct  a  nervous  impulse  into  a  particular  muscle, 
thereby  selecting  the  action  to  be  performed.  Hence  it  is 
that  we  find  the  psychologists  who  consider  feeling  to  be 
the  motive,  minimizing  the  importance   of  the  physio- 


FEELING   AS    MOTIVE  261 

logical  processes  involved,  emphasizing  the  lack  of  knowl- 
edge concerning  them,  and  relying  for  explanation  upon 
a  metaphysical  assumption  altogether  out  of  harmony 
vi^ith  the  fundamental  conception  of  a  natural  science.  In 
consequence,  also,  of  the  felt  difficulty  of  this  position  and 
its  extreme  importance,  inadequate  theories  of  feeling  are 
received  with  a  degree  of  favor  far  beyond  the  merits  of 
the  theories  themselves. 

In  this  respect,  the  advocates  of  the  idea  as  the  motive 
maintain  a  much  more  satisfactory  position.  It  is  a  fun- 
damental proposition  in  psychology  that  the  idea  is  the 
concomitant  of  a  nervous  impulse  passing  through  a  brain 
center,  and  that  after  having  passed  through  one  center, 
it  is  transmitted  to  another  through  which  it  also  passes. 
If  this  second  center  is  a  motor  center,  an  action  follows, 
and  it  is  well  understood  that  the  idea  center  is  closely 
connected  with  the  corresponding  motor  center,  if  not  in 
part  identical  with  it. 

But  the  statement  of  the  motive  as  made  by  the  new 
psychologists,  is  far  from  being  satisfactory  in  conse- 
quence of  its  lack  of  appreciation  of  the  function  of  feel- 
ing. Even  if  it  is  recognized  that  feeling  is  experienced 
at  the  same  time  with  the  motivating  idea,  no  reason  can 
be  assigned  for  its  presence,  and  no  function  for  it  is  per- 
ceived. It  seems  very  difficult  to  bring  the  two  processes 
into  one  scheme  of  action  and  to  show  the  function  of  each. 
If  the  idea  alone  is  the  motive,  then  feeling  has  no  func- 
tion in  determining  action,  and  our  fundamental  assump- 
tion in  the  preceding  pages  is  inaccurate  and  the  argu- 
ment is  non-sequential. 

Here,  then,  we  have  the  problem  clearly  set  forth  be- 
fore us.  Is  feeling  the  motive,  the  essential  antecedent 
mental  condition  of  an  action,  or  is  the  motive  an  intel- 
lectual, ideational  process,  without  which  no  action  is  pos- 
sible? If,  as  seems  probable  in  view  of  the  conflicting  evi- 
dence, we  shall  feel  it  necessary  to  assert  that  both  feeling 


262  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

and  idea  are  necessary  constituents  in  the  motive,  it  is  in* 
cumbent  upon  us  to  show  what  is  the  function  of  each,  and 
in  what  manner  each  enters  into  the  composition  of  the 
motive.  The  problem  is  a  difficult  one,  and  one  concerning 
which  there  is  the  largest  amount  of  data  seemingly  defy- 
ing all  attempts  to  reduce  it  to  an  orderly  arrangement.  It 
appears,  however,  not  to  be  insoluble,  although  many 
things  about  it  will  need  to  be  supplied  from  hypothesis, 
rather  than  from  direct  observation. 

The  assumption  made  in  the  preceding  pages  is  that  in 
some  way  feelings  have  been  serviceable  in  the  preserva- 
tion and  development  of  the  individual  and  the  race.  A 
feeling  is  not  advantageous  in  itself,  but  can  have  an  ad- 
vantageous function  only  as  it  induces,  causes,  modifies 
an  action  or  renders  it  more  efficient.  The  names  that  we 
have  applied  to  the  different  classes  of  feelings  are  mean- 
ingless and  absurd  unless  it  can  be  shown  that  they  are 
specifically  related  to  action.  The  self  preserving  feelings 
can  assist  in  the  preservation  of  the  individual  only  by 
inducing  some  action  that  leads  the  individual  out  of 
danger,  or  by  rendering  some  danger-escaping  action  more 
efficient.  The  community  preserving  feelings  can  con- 
tribute to  the  preservation  of  the  community  only  by 
means  of  some  action  to  which  they  hold  some  essential 
relation,  and  the  race  perpetuating  feelings  could  have  no 
effect  in  perpetuating  the  race,  did  not  some  action  follow 
directly  upon  the  feeling  itself. 

From  such  considerations  it  appears  that  so  long  as 
we  uphold  the  doctrine  that  feelings  have  been  important 
processes  in  the  development  of  the  race,  we  must  place 
ourselves  with  those  who  consider  the  feeling  as  the  mo- 
tive to  an  action.  Such  conclusion,  however,  would  be 
premature. 

One  consideration  has  apparently  been  overlooked  by 
the  advocates  of  feeling  as  a  motive — ^that  is  that  no  feel- 
ing is  ever  experienced   except  in  connection  with  an 


FEELING   AS   MOTIVE  263 

idea.  The  feeling  is  an  accompaniment  of  an  idea,  and 
can  never  be  experienced  without  it.  I  say  in  general 
this  is  true.  In  Chapter  XV  we  have  seen  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  the  earliest  mental  processes  are  feelings  with- 
out accompanying  ideas.  But  the  resulting  actions  are 
not  conscious,  voluntary  actions,  but  purposeless,  uncon- 
scious, unwilled  movements,  motivated  by  feeling  and 
differing  from  reflexes  only  in  the  fact  that  the  impulses 
which  innervate  the  contracting  muscles  are  transmitted 
to  the  muscles  from  a  brain  center  instead  of  from  a 
spinal  or  non-cerebral  ganglion.  This  action  that  is  com- 
pletely motivated  by  feeling  cannot  be  considered  a  typi- 
cal action,  whose  explanation  it  is  necessary  for  us  to 
seek,  nor  will  it  be  adduced  as  an  example  by  any  person 
who  considers  feeling  as  the  motive.  Our  admission  that 
there  are  actions  completely  motivated  by  feeling  will 
bring  no  satisfaction  to  the  advocates  of  the  theory.  Such 
actions  are,  indeed,  unusual  and  extraordinary,  and  must 
be  regarded  as  the  limit  toward  which  feeling  as  the 
motive  tends. 

On  the  other  hand  we  have  a  series  of  conscious  volun- 
tary actions  performed  under  the  influence  of  a  motive 
in  which  feeling  is  reduced  to  a  minimum.  We  have  re- 
iterated the  statement  in  previous  pages  that  feeling  tends 
to  disappear  from  an  habitual  act.  As  a  result  of  repeti- 
tion, an  action  comes  to  be  performed  without  any  feeling 
and  even  without  any  consciousness,  but  it  is  not  thereby 
deprived  of  its  voluntary  character.  Instead  of  calling 
such  actions  secondary  reflex,  it  is  a  much  more  nearly 
accurate  designation  of  their  character  to  call  them  un- 
conscious voluntary.  All  feeling  and  all  consciousness 
may  have  disappeared  from  the  antecedent  motivating 
process,  and  the  idea  alone  constitutes  the  motive.  Here 
we  have  the  other  limit  toward  which  the  motive  tends, 
and  when  an  action  has  approached  the  motivation  of  this 
limit,  we  may  assert  heartily  to  the  proposition  that  the 
Q.-  motive  is  the  idea  and  not  the  feeling. 


264  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

Between  these  two  limits  is  the  great  body  of  actions 
whose  necessary  mental  antecedents  include  both  feeling 
and  idea,  together  with  other  elements  of  the  psychon. 
This  is  to  say  that  the  motive  of  any  typical  action  in- 
cludes both  feeling  and  idea,  and  that  any  interpretation 
of  the  motive  that  excludes  either  is  at  best  only  partial 
and  incomplete.  It  now  remains  to  determine  what  is 
the  function  of  each  in  the  motive,  and  so  substitute  a 
complete  and  satisfactory  statement  of  the  motive  for  one 
that  is  only  partial  and  incomplete. 

Feeling  and  idea,  affection  and  intellect,  are  experienced 
at  the  same  time  as  the  concomitants  of  different  elements 
of  the  same  nervous  impulse.  There  is  no  necessary  rela- 
tion between  the  relative  intensities  of  the  two  processes, 
and  the  psychon  may  show  at  any  instant  a  varying  in- 
tensity between  the  two,  from  a  limit  of  i)ure  feeling  to 
the  limit  of  pure  idea.  We  have  interpreted  the  feeling 
as  the  concomitant  of  the  resistance  encountered  in  pass- 
ing through  a  nervous  arc,  which  resistance  is  the  result- 
ant of  two  factors  producing  contradictory  effects,  and  de- 
manding two  laws  to  state  them.  One  of  these  laws  has 
been  stated  by  saying  that  with  a  given  amount  of  ner- 
vous energy  the  feeling  varies  as  the  resisting  power  of 
the  nervous  arc.  When  the  resistance  is  determined 
largely  by  this  factor,  there  is  a  reciprocal  relation  be- 
tween intellect  and  feeling.  The  greater  the  feeling,  the 
less  exact,  effective,  and  vigorous  will  be  the  action.  When 
the  nervous  arc  itself  furnishes  much  resistance,  the  re- 
sulting ideational  process  is  likely  to  be  feeble,  obscure, 
and  unlikely  to  result  in  certain,  definite,  well  directed 
voluntary  action.  Much  feeling  will  be  experienced,  and 
little  effective  action  will  follow.  In  our  discussion  of 
esthetic  feelings  we  learned  that,  in  general,  the  esthetic 
feelings  are  the  accompaniment  of  resistance  arising  from 
bringing  new  cells  into  the  circuit,  and  we  recognized 
that  a  large  part  of  the  resistance  accompanying  esthetic 


FEELING   AS    MOTIVE  26^ 

feelings  depends  upon  the  nature  of  the  nervous  arc.  As 
a  general  rule,  persons  of  esthetic  temperament  are  un- 
able to  get  things  done.  Few  artists  are  men  of  affairs, 
or  capable  of  manifesting  the  highest  executive  ability, 
and  persons  generally  of  an  emotional  temperament  are 
not  likely  to  carry  out  to  completion  a  long  continued  and 
difficult  course  of  action. 

So  long  as  there  is  much  feeling  arising  as  the  concomi- 
tant of  resistance  depending  upon  the  nervous  system 
itself,  the  mental  processes  and  the  muscular  movements 
are  erratic,  hesitating,  and  ineffective.  As  the  muscular 
movements  become  positive,  efficient,  and  emphatic,  the 
feeling  diminishes.  Activity  itself  seems  to  have  the  effect 
of  diminishing  feeling;  feeling  diminished,  the  action  be- 
comes more  effective.  Any  person  who  is  experiencing 
intense  feeling  of  any  kind,  finds  in  action  a  method  of 
diminishing  its  intensity.  From  all  these  things  it  ap- 
pears that  so  long  as  feeling  constitutes  any  large  part 
of  the  antecedent  mental  process,  the  action  is  not  highly 
effective. 

The  above  considerations  are  relied  upon  to  justify 
the  assertion  that  it  is  the  idea,  and  not  the  feeling,  in 
the  antecedent  mental  process  that  constitutes  the  essen- 
tial factor  in  leading  to  action,  and  is  the  real  motive. 
Our  analysis  shows  that  this  position  is  capable  of  being 
maintained  only  in  cases  in  which  the  feeling  that  pre- 
cedes the  action  is  the  concomitant  of  resistance  which 
has  its  origin  in  the  nature  of  the  nervous  arc  itself.  If 
only  such  actions  are  to  be  considered,  the  argument  in 
favor  of  the  idea  as  the  motive  could  be  maintained  with 
a  high  degree  of  plausibility,  and  would  be  difficult  to 
overthrow.  But  there  is  another  series  of  actions  to  which 
such  an  argument  will  not  apply. 

There  is  another  factor  which  determines  the  amount  of 
resistance,  and  that  is  the  strength  of  the  current.  The 
nervous  arc  remaining  the  same,  the  greater  the  current 


266  THE    FEELINGS    OF    MAN 

strength  the  greater  the  resistance  will  be.  The  greater 
the  current  strength,  the  larger  the  amount  of  nervous 
energy  that  will  pass  through  the  arc.  But  the  greater 
resistance  is  the  concomitant  of  increased  feeling,  and  the 
larger  quantity  of  transmitted  energy  is  the  concomitant 
of  greater  intellectual  work  and  clearer  ideas.  The  clearer 
the  idea  becomes,  the  more  certain  it  is  to  result  in  action, 
and  the  more  effective  the  action  will  be.  Hence  it  is  from 
this  condition  alone,  the  more  effective  and  vigorous  ac- 
tion is  accompanied  by  more  intense  feeling.  There  is  a 
direct  relation,  instead  of  inverse,  between  intellect  and 
feeling,  between  feeling,  idea,  and  action. 

We  have  many  examples  of  men  of  action  who  are  at 
the  same  time  men  of  deep  feeling.  We  expect  the  orator 
and  the  preacher  to  manifest  considerable  emotion,  and 
his  discourse  is  not  likely  to  be  effective  unless  he  does. 
It  appears  that  in  such  persons,  a  lack  of  emotional  dis- 
play is  likely  to  be  considered  as  indicative  of  a  mind  in 
which  the  mental  processes  are  feeble  and  hesitant.  Simi- 
larly, gesture  and  movement  in  a  speaker  are  taken  to  be 
indicative  of  a  high  nervous  tension,  much  feeling,  vigor- 
ous ideas.  And  so  we  have  examples  every  day  of  men 
who  feel  keenly  and  act  resolutely  and  effectively.  It  is 
upon  examples  of  such  actions  that  those  psychologists 
rely  who  assert  that  feeling  is  the  motive,  and  that  the 
more  intense  the  feeling  the  more  vigorous  the  action 
will  be. 

We  thus  see  that  the  contradictory  theories  arise  from 
partial  views  of  the  function  of  feeling.  Our  hypothesis 
enables  us  to  see  how  each  party  has  deceived  itself  by 
a  partial  view,  and  that  neither  is  wholly  right  nor  wholly 
wrong.  Feeling  is  the  concomitant  of  resistance  which 
is  the  resultant  of  two  opposing  factors  having  contradic- 
tory effects  and  varying  independently  of  each  other. 
What  the  resultant  will  be  in  any  particular  set  of  cir- 
cumstances it  is  impossible  to  calculate  or  predict.    Be- 


FEELING   AS    MOTIVE 


267 


sides  this,  the  resultant  is  modified  by  a  process  of  atten- 
tion, or  attention  constitutes  a  third  factor  which  still 
more  seriously  complicates  the  problem. 

In  view  of  the  fact  that  every  action  in  its  origin  is 
motivated  by  feeling,  that  feelings  have  undoubtedly  been 
advantageous  in  the  development  of  the  race,  that  they  can 
be  advantageous  only  by  means  of  their  influence  upon 
actions,  we  are  justified  in  asserting  that  feeling  is,  in 
general,  an  essential  constituent  of  the  motive.  Then 
again,  in  view  of  the  fact  that,  with  the  exceptions  noted, 
no  feeling  can  be  experienced  except  as  the  accompani- 
ment of  an  intellectual  process,  that  there  can  be  no  con- 
scious, voluntary  action  without  an  antecedent  idea,  that 
feeling  diminishes  and  almost  disappears  as  actions  be- 
come more  skillfully  performed,  we  are  equally  justified 
in  asserting  that  the  idea  also  enters  as  an  esential  con- 
stituent into  the  motive.  Neither  feeling  nor  idea  alone 
is  the  motivating  force,  but  feeling  and  idea  are  both 
essential  constituents  in  the  antecedent  mental  process 
which  results  in  action. 

But  the  most  important  question  remains  to  be  an- 
swered. Having  decided  by  evidence  of  the  highest  de- 
gree of  probability  that  both  feeling  and  idea  belong  in 
the  motive,  it  is  incumbent  upon  us  to  show  the  function 
of  each.  Unless  this  is  done,  we  shall  have  aided  little  in 
the  solution  of  the  problem.  It  is  certain  with  two  diverse 
processes,  neither  of  which  can  be  omitted  from  the  mo- 
tive of  a  typical  action,  that  both  canot  perform  the  same 
function. 

The  resistance  encountered  by  a  nervous  impulse  in 
passing  through  a  brain  center  for  the  first  time,  causes  it 
to  spread  out  into  various  undetermined,  fortuitous  di- 
rections. The  result  is  a  series  of  uncoordinated,  pur- 
poseless movements  motivated  only  by  feeling,  and  con- 
stituting emotional  expression,  rather  than  voluntary 
acts.     However,  these  primary,  uncoordinated,  purpose- 


26S  THE   FEELINGS   OF    MAN 

less  movements  are  necessary  to  the  development  of  the 
voluntary  actions,  since  it  is  by  means  of  such  impulses 
that  the  brain  centers  become  organized  and  cerebral 
transmission  paths  are  marked  out.  These  uncoordi- 
nated movements  are  a  necessary  preliminary  to  any  con- 
scious, voluntary  act. 

In  general,  these  expressive,  purposeless  acts,  motivated 
by  feeling  alone,  are  useless  and  unserviceable.  But  some 
of  them  are  or  may  be  advantageous,  and  are  preserved 
by  natural  selection,  or  by  that  particular  form  of  it 
which,  in  this  case,  has  been  called  functional  selection. 
The  nervous  organization  that  renders  them  ultimately 
inevitable  is  transmitted  by  heredity.  It  is  in  this  way 
that  we  may  account  for  the  origin  of  those  emotional 
expressions  that  we  have  recognized  as  beneficial  to  the 
individual  and  to  the  race. 

An  idea,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word,  is  the  concomi- 
tant of  a  centrally  initiated  impulse.  The  centrally  initi- 
ated impulse  is  always  weaker  than  one  that  is  peripher- 
ally initiated,  and  the  idea  is  fainter  than  the  percept. 
No  idea  can  be  experienced  that  is  not  the  concomitant 
of  an  impulse  passing  through  a  brain  center  that  has 
been  traversed  before.  No  idea  of  an  act  can  be  expe- 
rienced before  the  act  itself  has  been  performed.  Before 
the  idea  of  an  act  can  be  entertained  so  as  to  constitute 
a  motive,  the  act  itself  must  have  been  previously  accom- 
plished. The  first  time  that  any  action  is  performed,  it 
is  done  without  the  antecedent,  motivating  idea,  and  has 
the  form  merely  of  an  emotional  expression. 

The  above  conclusions,  which  seem  to  be  supported  by 
reliable  observations,  put  some  serious  limitations  upon 
the  possible  actions,  and  upon  the  interpretation  of  their 
origin  that  have  been  made.  If  the  preceding  statements 
are  true,  as  they  seem  to  be,  every  action  must  originate 
in  feeling,  and,  upon  its  first  appearance,  must  be  moti- 
vated by  it.    No  idea  can  originate  an  action  entirely  new. 


PEELING   AS   MOTIVE  269 

It  is  impossible  for  a  wholly  new  action  to  be  willed  by 
that  hypothetical  entity  called  mind.  The  will  is  help- 
less in  such  a  situation,  and  no  psychologist  who  believes 
in  the  all-sufflciency  of  the  will  is  able  in  the  least  degree 
to  account  for  the  failure  of  the  will  to  lead  to  an  action 
that  is  wholly  new.  The  will  is  utterly  unable  to  originate 
a  new  action  or  to  organize  a  new  brain  center.  Even 
the  speech  center  is  organized,  not  by  will,  but  by  means 
of  impulses  originating  in  sense  organs  and  overflowing 
into  it,  running  out  into  expressive  movements,  of  which 
ultimately  the  useful  are  selected  and  the  useless  are 
finally  eliminated. 

The  organization  of  the  brain  center  is  accomplished 
by  means  of  impulses  transmitted  through  it.  The  idea 
of  an  action  is  obtained  from  the  action  itself.  The  asso- 
ciation of  sensation  centers  and  motor  centers  becomes 
closer  and  more  definite  by  a  repetition  of  the  actions. 
The  principal  sensation  centers  involved  in  the  idea  of  an 
action  are  the  sight  centers  and  the  muscular  sensation 
centers,  although  others  are  included.  When  the  organi- 
zation of  these  cerebral  centers  has  been  carried  to  such 
an  extent  that  a  centrally  initiated  impulse  will  be  trans- 
mitted through  these  particular  combinations  that  have 
been  traversed  before  as  a  result  of  the  perception  of 
the  action,  then  an  idea  of  the  action  will  be  properly 
experienced. 

Whenever  the  organization  of  the  action  centers,  in- 
cluding both  motor  and  sensation  centers,  has  reached 
the  condition  in  which  a  centrally  initiated  impulse  can 
traverse  the  sensation  centers  and  result  in  a  clear  idea 
of  the  action,  an  impulse  is  already  traversing  the  com- 
bination of  which  the  motor  cells  constitute  a  part.  Hence 
it  is  that  the  idea  of  an  action  is  the  beginning  of  the 
action  itself,  and  that  any  clear  idea  will  work  itself  out 
into  action,  unless  it  is  positively  inhibited. 

A  nervous  impulse  is  directed  by  means  of  the  resist- 


270  THE    FEELINGS    OF    MAN 

ance  it  encounters,  and  the  brain  centers  which  it  trav- 
erses is  determined  by  the  degree  of  resistance  that  it 
meets.  There  is  no  other  possible  way  by  which  its 
course  can  be  decided.  The  nervous  impulse  will  follow 
the  path  of  least  resistance  as  inevitably  as  water  flows 
down  hill.  But  resistance  is  the  concomitant  of  feel- 
ing, and  this  fact  furnishes  us  the  solution  of  the  most 
puzzling  problem  in  all  psychology.  The  action  follows 
the  idea,  but  feeling  is  that  element  which  exercises  a 
selective  function,  and  determines  whether  one  idea  or 
another  shall  be  entertained.  A  pleasurable  action  will 
be  performed  rather  than  a  painful  one,  because  the  ner- 
vous impulse  will  encounter  less  resistance  in  passing 
into  the  center  whose  resistance  accompanies  a  pleasur- 
able feeling,  than  into  a  painful  center.     • 

The  selective  function  of  feeling  is  manifested  through- 
out the  whole  range  of  muscular  activity.  The  conscious 
voluntary  actions  following  upon  ideas,  are  those  that 
have  survived  out  of  a  very  much  larger  series  of  for- 
tuitous, erratic,  purposeless,  expressive  actions.  The  sur- 
vival of  some  forms  of  action  in  preference  to  others,  is 
the  result  of  a  process  of  functional  selection  in  which  it 
appears  that  feeling,  or  its  concomitant  resistance,  has 
been  the  principal  factor.  Functional  selection  is  a 
process  originating  in  feeling  and  its  concomitant.  Here, 
then,  at  the  very  source  and  origin  of  voluntary,  conscious 
activity,  we  recognize  the  importance  and  all-determining 
character  of  the  process  which  we  call  feeling. 

Not  merely  in  the  origin  of  activity,  but  wherever  con- 
scious voluntary  activity  is  manifested,  we  may  discover 
the  operation  of  feeling  in  its  selective  function.  Feeling 
itself  does  not  determine  that  an  action  shall  be  per- 
formed, but  when  a  condition  arises  in  which  an  action 
is  bound  to  follow,  feeling  is  the  process  that  determines 
whether  the  following  action  shall  be  one  or  the  other. 
The  condition  that  makes  an  action  inevitable  is  the  con- 


FEELING   AS    MOTIVE  271 

dition  whose  concomitant  is  an  idea.  Leaving  aside  all 
circumlocution  that  contributes  to  accuracy  of  expression, 
and  seeking  only  definiteness,  we  may  say  that  the  idea 
is  the  driving  force  that  leads  to  action,  and  feeling  is 
the  guiding,  selecting  agency,  that  determines  that  one 
action  in  preference  to  another  shall  be  performed. 

We  thus  see  that  every  conscious,  voluntary  action  in- 
cludes in  its  motive  both  feeling  and  idea,  and  that  the 
functions  of  both  are  different,  but  equally  essential. 
Since  feeling  and  idea  vary  independently  of  each  other, 
we  shall  find  the  two  elements  entering  into  the  motive 
in  various  and  varying  degrees.  This  does  not  prevent, 
however,  our  discovering  the  nature  of  the  important 
function  that  each  performs. 

Synopsis. 

1 — There  are  two  theories  of  the  nature  of  motive.  One 
theory  regards  feeling  as  motive^  and  the  other  considers 
that  all  actions  are  motivated  hy  the  idea  alone. 

2 — Facts  are  appealed  to  hy  advocates  of  each  theory, 
and  the  arguments  of  one  seem  to  demolish  the  arguments 
of  the  other. 

3 — We  have  assumed  that  feelings  have  heen  advan- 
tageous to  the  individual  and  to  the  species,  and  it  is  nec- 
essary to  show  how  feeling  has  resulted  in  benefit  to 
society  as  a  whole. 

4 — A  nervous  impulse  is  always  directed  in  its  course 
T}y  the  resistance  it  encounters,  and  we  have  recognized 
7'esistance  as  the  concomitant  of  feeling. 

5 — It  appears,  then,  that  the  idea  or  its  concomitant  is 
the  driving  force,  which  determines  that  an  action  shall 
or  shall  not  he  performed,  and  that  feeling  is  the  con- 
comitant of  the  selective  function  that  determines  whether 
one  action  or  the  other  shall  he  performed. 

6 — Feeling  and  idea  hoth  appear  in  the  motive,  each 
exercising  its  function,  and  neither  constituting  the  mo- 
tive alone. 


INDEX 


Advantage  of  esthetic  feelings, 

139. 
Affective  process,  11. 
Altruism,  112. 
Ants,  109. 

Antithesis,  principle  of,  78. 
Apperception,  205. 
Association  areas,  180. 
Attention,  190. 

positive,  201. 

negative,  201. 
Awareness,  157. 
Axis  cylinder,  53. 

Bagley,  190. 
Bain,  25,  166,  180. 
Baldwin,  66. 
Beauty,  126,  127,  129. 
Bees,  109. 

Bell-Magendie  law,  73. 
Binet,  160. 
Brain  center,  84. 
Brooks,  142. 


Common  theory  of  feeling,  13. 
Community  preserving  feelings, 

108,  111. 
Consciousness,  157,  236. 

of  self,  252. 
Conscious  voluntary  act,  257. 
Continuity,  231. 
Consumption,  101. 
Cortex,  function  of,  22. 
Courage,  113. 
Crying,  75. 
Crying  reflex,  244. 
Current,  30,  212. 

strength  of,  50. 

elements  of,  213. 

Darwin,  4,  66,  75,  78,  247. 

Descartes,  159. 

DeQuincy,  218. 

Dendritic  movement  theory,  198. 

Dream,  172. 

Dualists,  29. 


Central  theory  of  feeling,  23. 
Centrally   initiated   impulse, 

50,  89. 
Children,  40. 

rection  time  of,  39. 
Chronoscope,  34,  50. 
Chloroform,  action  of,  49,  174. 
Christian  Science,  100,  203. 
Classification  of  feelings,  105. 
Cocaine,  9. 
Colvin,  190. 


Ego,  227,  232,  240. 
Egoism,  112. 
Electrons,  33. 
Emotion,  2,  4. 
End  organs,  50. 
Epicureans,  99. 
Esthetics,  125. 
Expression  of  feeling,  61. 
Expression,   determined   by  re- 
sistance, 66. 
Expression  center,  73. 


278 


274 


THE    FEELINGS   OF    MAN 


Faith  cure,  203. 

Fatigue,  98. 

Fernald,  219. 

Fear,  76. 

Fear  paralysis,  76. 

Feeling,  definition  of,  1,  10,  12. 

number  of,  85. 

center,  85. 

self-preserving,  108,  109. 

esthetic,  125. 

race  perpetuating,  108,  118. 

community  preserving,  108, 
111. 

moral,  113. 

malevolent,   114. 

religious,  121. 

pseudo-esthetic,  130. 

laws  of,  145. 
Feigning  death,  77. 
Fissure  of  Rolando,  68. 
Function  of  feeling,  107. 
Functions  of  the  neuron,  54. 
Functional    selection,    167,    268, 

270. 
Freud,  161. 

Gardiner,  143. 

Glandular  expression.  63,  64. 

Goldscheider,  7. 

Growth,  150. 

habit,  effect  of,  38,  149. 

Haeckel,  160. 

Hall,  181. 

Hamilton,  23,  159. 

Haven,  142. 

Helmholtz,  35. 

H(5ffding,  11,  18,  26,  43,  46,  72, 

144,  243,  247. 
Hutchinson,  Woods,  100. 


Hypnotism,  206,  208. 
Hypothesis,  27,  45. 

Idea,  259,  268. 

Idiots,  41,  42. 

Imitation,  256. 

Indifference,  97. 

Inhibition,  as  expression,  70. 

of  expression,  18. 

of  activity,  65,  70. 
Isomeric  change,  32. 
Intellect,  141. 
Interest,  153. 
Intensity  of  feeling,  87. 

James,  35,  52. 
James'  theory,  16,  72. 
Judgment,  238. 

Katabolic  change,  216. 
Kinetic  will  test,  219. 
Knee  jerk,  37. 
Krafft-Ebing,  23. 

Ladd,  7,  35,  46. 

Laws  of  resistance,  48,  49. 

of  feeling,  145. 

Weber's,  52. 
Leprosy,   101. 
Loeb,  102. 
Locke,  159. 

Madonna,  Sistine,  30. 
Malevolent  feelings,  114. 
Marshall,  24,  227. 
Martin,  155. 
McCosh,  259. 
Medullary  sheath,  52. 
Memory,  179,  186. 


INDEX 


275 


Mental  recognition,  189. 

reproduction,  186. 

ontogeny,  243, 
Mental  pain,  93. 
Meyer,  26. 
Meynert,  23. 
Mind,  14,  232. 
Moral  feelings,  113. 
Mother  love,  118. 
Motive,  257,  259. 
Motive  powers,  259. 
Motor  centers,  67. 
Morat,  9,  54,  197. 
Miiller,  34. 
Muscular  sense,  21. 

expression,  62. 

Narcotics,  172. 
Natural  selection,  59,  107. 
Natural  classification,  105. 
Negative  attention,  201. 
Nervous  current,  32,  51. 
Nerve  fiber,  53. 
Nervo-motive  force,  215,  254. 
Neuritis,  37. 
Neurons,  53. 
Neural  habit,  88. 
Neuroglia,  195. 
Nordau,  151. 

Opposum,  76. 

Origin  of  expression,  74. 

Pain,  advantage  of,  98,  100. 

Pain  sensation,  6,  7,  8. 

Paralysis  as  expression,  54. 

Parallelism,  29. 

Pearson,  160. 

Peripheral  theory  of  feeling,  23. 


Peripherally   initiated   impulse, 

50,  89. 
Personal  identity,  237. 
Perception  of  resemblance,  238. 
Perception,  250. 
Philoprogenitiveness,  120,  133. 
Physical  pain,  93. 
Pillsbury,  180. 
Pleasure  and  pain,  3,  92. 
Pleasure-pain,  6. 
Plasticity,  167. 
Positive  attention,  201. 
Practice,  38,  169. 
Protagon,  31. 
Pressure  of  light,  50. 
Principle  of  antithesis,  78. 
Properties  of  feeling,  81. 
Pupillary  reflex,  37. 
Pure  feeling,  43. 
Puzzle  picture,  207. 
Psychon,  164,  215. 
Psychology,   241. 
Pseudo-esthetic  feelings,  130. 

Radiation,  66,  67,  164. 

Race  perpetuating  feelings,  108, 

118. 
Rattlesnake,  87. 
Ragweed,  236. 
Reaction  time,  33,  34. 

in  children,  39. 
Reflex  action,  37. 
Reflex,  crying,  244. 
Religious  feelings,  121. 
Retentiveness,  183. 
Resistance,  46,  47,  91. 
Resistance,  laws  of,  48,  49. 

nature  of,  50,  51. 
Ribout,  23,  35,  46,  92,  144,  199, 

219. 


276 


THE   FEELINGS   OF   MAN 


Richet,  26,  46,  166. 

Romanes,  161. 

Saleeby,  161. 

Saponin,  9. 

Sensibility,  4. 

Sensation,  4,  42. 

Sensori-motor  arc,  21. 

Self-preserving  feelings,  108, 109. 

Selfish  feelings,  110. 

Sleep,  171. 

Spencer,  23,  31,  57,  66,  86,  106, 

137,  144,  160,  181. 
Specific  character  of  feelings,  83. 
Sollier,  25. 

Strength  of  current,  50. 
Synapse,  195. 
Synaptic  membrane,  54. 


Theories  of  feeling,  13. 
Titchener,  46,  85. 
Tone  of  feeling,  92. 

Unpleasantness,  93. 
Unconscious  voluntary  act,  263. 
Utility  of  expression,  75,  77. 
Utility  as  beauty,  134. 

Warning  colors,  115. 
Weber's  law,  52. 
Will,  211. 
Worry,  203. 
Wundt,  35,  160,  197. 

Ziehen,  46,  160. 


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